The Heiress They Left To Die Chapter 02
When he saw me walking over with the cardboard box in my arms, he smiled.
“Dr. Blackwood. Off work early?”
“You were so bold when you turned me down yesterday. Funny how you can’t even hold on to a job today.”
He took a step closer and dropped his voice.
“Ava Blackwood. Starting today, there won’t be a single hospital in this country willing to hire you.”
He said it and waited — waited for panic to break across my face, waited for me to beg.
I didn’t.
I just looked at him quietly. “Oh? Is that so?”
Ethan’s smile slowly faded. Clearly, this wasn’t the reaction he’d wanted.
“But I’ll give you one last option.”
“Come to the Hawthorne estate. Be Josie’s private physician. On call twenty-four hours. Her, and only her.”
“Cure her, and I promise you’ll never have to think about money again for the rest of your life.”
I actually laughed.
“Ethan. Do you really believe the Hawthornes are the only people in the world with money?”
I didn’t waste another word on him. I walked past him with the box in my arms and out the doors of St. Catherine’s.
Ethan thought that stripping me of this job was the same as grinding me into the dirt.
But he had no idea.
I wasn’t just a cardiologist at St. Catherine’s.
I was also the adopted daughter of Dr. Arthur Blackwood — and the sole publicly acknowledged heir of Blackwood Medical Group.
Arthur Blackwood was the top cardiac surgeon in the world. Blackwood Medical held a private hospital network, R&D centers, medical foundations, and a roster of elite specialists.
The Hawthornes could sway one hospital board with a donation.
Blackwood decided which hospitals got funded at all, which research programs stayed alive, and which physicians ever made it into the real inner circle.
I’d come to St. Catherine’s to finish the final trial Arthur had set for me.
Ethan wanted to blacklist me.
They weren’t in that league.
That night, back at my apartment, I unlocked my phone and saw that my name had already climbed the trending lists on X and TikTok.
#DoctorLetHerDie
#AvaBlackwoodTookBribes
#ColdBloodedDoctor
A heavily edited clip was tearing across every feed.
In the video, Josie sat in her wheelchair, pale, clutching her chest. Ethan stood beside her, voice trembling. “Dr. Blackwood, please. Save my sister. We brought the money. Just help her.”
Then the cut jumped to me, and all that was left were the two icy lines:
“I’m not taking her.”
“Take the card and get her out of my office.”
Right after that, an anonymous account claiming to be a St. Catherine’s insider dropped a post.
I work at the hospital. Ava Blackwood is no saint. She takes bribes from patients on the side.
The Hawthornes didn’t pay her number, so she refused to treat. The board fired her this morning!
The comments were a stampede.
Bitch! People like this get to call themselves doctors?
A doctor is supposed to save lives. She just watched a patient walk away to die. Selfish trash.
Pull her license. Kick her out of medicine. People like her deserve to die.
Josie added her own Instagram Story.
A photo of her wrist with an IV line taped to it. Fragile. Tragic.
Maybe I don’t have much time left. But I still want to believe there’s kindness in this world. Please don’t blame Dr. Blackwood.
Within minutes, the flood hit my accounts.
DMs full of curses, death threats, fake obituaries. Someone even photoshopped my picture into a funeral portrait and sent it to me.
I scrolled through it all and felt nothing close to surprise.
They’d done exactly this in the last life.
Josie collapsed. Ethan said I’d caused it. They cut the video, spun the story, hauled me out in front of the world so everyone could tear at me together.
Except this time, I wasn’t going to be dragged along behind them.
I dialed Ethan.
“I’ll take your sister’s case.”
Ethan laughed, unable to hide the smugness in his voice. “See? Wasn’t that easier?”
I cut him off.
“On one condition. The consult goes out on a public livestream.”
“Livestream?” His laugh dropped away, and his voice cooled. “The whole internet is dragging you right now, and you want to go live? You haven’t been humiliated enough?”
I watched the night outside my window. The corner of my mouth lifted.
“Let everyone watch me bow to the Hawthornes. Watch me examine Josie in front of an audience. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“It’s a good chance for me too. I can apologize on camera. Try to save my career.”
Ethan agreed.
“Fine. If you want to embarrass yourself in public, be my guest.”
“One more thing.” I paused. “Josie doesn’t get to know about the livestream. She’s a patient. Her heart can’t take that kind of stress, right? If she finds out millions of people are watching her and something happens, that’s on you.”
Ethan thought about it for two seconds. Then agreed.
“Fine.”
I hung up and set the phone down.
The screen was still lit, new insults pouring in one after another.
I watched for a while, then turned it off. The black glass reflected the faint curve of my mouth.
If they wanted a stage to humiliate me on.
I’d give them one.