Not A Small Town Girl (Danielle and David)

Dawn painted the sky when Vivian spotted her daughter on the stairs. Her face softened. "Sweetie, you should sleep in—it's so early."
"I'm used to early hours," Danielle replied. She'd actually been up since five handling business matters, but her mother didn't need to know that.
"This is your home now. You're the Darling heiress—your time is your own," Vivian said gently. She and Howard had spent last night weeping in the
study after learning the details of their daughter's hardscrabble life.
"Let's have breakfast," Vivian said, leading Danielle to the dining table.
The table resembled a five-star buffet, groaning under platters of various dishes—enough to feed an army.
"Try whatever catches your eye," Howard urged fondly. "We weren't sure what you'd like."
"I'm not picky," Danielle assured them simply.
Their faces lit up at her easy acceptance. "Everything's official now—you're legally our daughter, Danielle," Howard said. "We'll host a proper
homecoming party soon, introduce you to everyone. Your uncles will come too."
"Whatever you think best," Danielle agreed.
"Why don't we go shopping today?" Vivian's eyes sparkled hopefully.
"Sorry, Mom. I have an appointment. Rain check?" Danielle hated dimming her mother's eager smile.
"She called me Mom!" Vivian grabbed her husband's arm while he pretended to pout, jealousy written all over his face.
"Dad," Danielle added smoothly, ever the peacemaker.
Pure joy flooded their faces. Yesterday, Danielle had only acknowledged her brother, Joseph, leaving them afraid she blamed them for failing to

protect her as a child.
Their earlier traces of sadness melted away the moment their daughter called them "Mom" and "Dad," replaced now by beaming smiles.
"Sweetheart, let our driver take you there," Vivian insisted as Danielle prepared to leave.
"Okay," Danielle replied.
*****

St. Katherine's Hospital buzzed with barely contained panic as doctors rushed through sterile corridors.
"Mr. Logan Charrington—how did he crash so suddenly?" someone whispered.
Danielle arrived to find the elderly patient more dead than alive.
"Family status?" a doctor asked.
"En route. Given the patient's identity, we need consent before we touch him..." another one replied.
"He'll be dead before they arrive," Danielle observed coolly from the doorway.
The frantic doctors turned to find a teenage girl radiating quiet authority despite her youth. Her bright, clear eyes held unwavering determination. Her
tall, slender frame and long legs enhanced her natural elegance.
"This is beyond your comprehension, girl," the chief physician, Christopher Wilson, said patronizingly. "It's an extremely delicate case. We would
operate if we could."
They had no choice but to wait for his family members to arrive. After all, the patient's grandson was too formidable—if anything happened to him at
their hospital, they couldn't bear the responsibility. The entire hospital might not survive the fallout.
With one eyebrow arched, Danielle asked, "Is valvular heart disease really that complicated?"
"You know the condition?" Christopher asked, surprise coloring his tone.

"Do you know medicine?" Savannah Watson chimed in. "Since you know this is valvular heart disease, you must also know that valve replacement
surgery is necessary!"
Danielle lifted her cool gaze, her eyes sparkling like stars. "If you're considering valve replacement, it only shows you haven't used enough antibiotics,
which led to the infection and perivalvular leakage."
The doctors froze at the young girl's words—she'd pinpointed their oversight with surgical precision.
"What's the holdup?" Ethan Wood, director of St. Katherine Hospital and head of cardiac surgery, asked, his commanding presence preceding his
silver hair around the corner.
"Dr. Wood! The patient's family's still an hour out minimum," Christopher replied respectfully.
Logan had previously undergone three valve replacement surgeries, soon developing perivalvular leakage and other complications.

He'd sought treatment abroad, but complications like postoperative recurrence and infection appeared shortly after surgery.
His condition was now critical, and there wasn't time to go abroad again. They could only attempt emergency treatment here.
St. Katherine Hospital's cardiac surgery department was nationally renowned, and Ethan's expertise in this field was legendary.
Under immense pressure from all sides, Ethan had managed to stabilize Logan's condition—essentially pulling him back from death's door. However,
the very next day, he developed an infection, requiring another surgery.
Currently, Logan's condition was extremely severe. An upper respiratory infection had progressed to pneumonia, and just as they'd gotten the
pneumonia under control, heart failure symptoms appeared.
The situation was dire. If they operated again, Logan might not survive the surgery. They could only wait for his family's consent.
With proper consent forms signed, the surgery would shield them from liability even if the patient didn't survive—the family couldn't fault them for
trying.
But given Logan's rapidly deteriorating condition, he likely wouldn't survive long enough for his family to arrive.
"I think we should wait," Savannah ventured nervously. "If he dies in surgery..."
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. "Considering the patient's condition and his... status, we could try using other medications
to keep him stable until his family gets here," she added, her voice low but clear.