Noon.
Cafeteria.
Adam and the others were having lunch.
Meredith walked over with her tray, sat directly across from Adam, and stared at him intently.
Christina and the others immediately switched into gossip mode, their eyes full of curiosity and excitement.
Adam, unlike Sheldon and the others who would just poke at their food with a fork without eating, continued eating as usual, unfazed.
Bianca frowned at Meredith, looking ready to intervene at any moment.
"Thank you."
To Christina's disappointment, Meredith, after staring at Adam for a while, suddenly spoke sincerely.
"You're welcome."
Adam glanced at her briefly.
"If you hadn't pointed out the mistake right then and there, the consequences…"
Meredith's tone was full of gratitude. "I've been thinking about it all morning, especially when I faced the patient's family. The fear of what could've happened hit me even harder. If things had gone wrong, I probably wouldn't have been able to stop myself from admitting my mistake right in front of them... In the end, you saved me. Really, thank you!"
"The first lesson of residency training: Never admit mistakes in front of patients or their families."
Christina couldn't help but remind her, "Even without Adam's warning, you shouldn't have done that. That's common sense. Did you forget?"
"Admitting it in the moment is far more useful than a guilty confession after the fact."
Adam said calmly, "But paying attention to common sense and details beforehand is even more useful than admitting mistakes when they happen."
This was just who she was.
Anyone else probably wouldn't have reacted this way.
Someone spends eight grueling years studying, accumulates two or three hundred thousand dollars in student debt, and makes it this far.
One step forward, and they become a respected doctor.
One step back, and they might end up on the streets.
If you confess your mistake to a patient's family after the fact, the most likely outcome is getting fired—maybe even losing your medical license.
Unable to use the professional skills they spent years mastering, still buried in debt with no way to pay it off, they'd likely end up homeless.
Living off food from charity shelters.
On holidays, they might be able to visit a few different shelters, where most of the good donated food would already be taken home by volunteers—after all, they're "starving" too. But at least there would be plenty of junk food to eat until they were full. That would be considered a holiday celebration.
If they were especially lucky, they might run into someone eccentric like Barney, who'd buy them a lap dance to give them a taste of "heaven."
But that's about as good as it gets.
Does that compare in any way to being a successful doctor?
Would anyone choose the latter path?
Adam asked himself: If this had happened to him, would he admit to it?
No.
That's just human nature.
But does that mean Meredith is somehow more noble than Adam and the others?
Of course not.
It only means that her "main character syndrome" is still going strong.
She hasn't fully grasped the extreme fear of the real consequences. Deep down, she still believes she'll be fine. That's why she dares to say she would admit her mistake— even in front of the patient's family.
Who else would do that?
This kind of thinking is far more dangerous than a simple human weakness.
Human weaknesses are well understood, and systems have been put in place to manage them, so the harm is actually limited.
But this "main character syndrome" operates at a subconscious level, meaning the person isn't even aware of it.
Once they act recklessly, they end up hurting both themselves and others.
And to make matters worse, people like her appear noble—owning up to mistakes, taking responsibility, shining with a moral glow.
But life-and-death situations demand a healthy level of fear.
As doctors, having fear and reverence is far better than being fearless and reckless.
"Meredith has already improved a lot."
George, the sycophantic pretty boy, couldn't help but defend his goddess again. "Every doctor makes mistakes. Even someone as great as Dr. Burke once left a towel inside a patient's lung, and it wasn't discovered until today."
"How do you know that?"
Christina's eyes narrowed.
"You guys don't know?"
George explained, "I'm the attending physician for Mrs. Drake. She had surgery at our hospital five years ago and has been feeling chest tightness ever since.
"But she used to smoke four packs a day, so lung shadows were considered normal. Even after she quit, no one took her complaints seriously.
"Until today, when she had another surgery, and the chief surgeon found a towel inside her lung. That's when we realized the mistake had happened during her previous operation—and Dr. Burke was the lead surgeon at the time."
"Wait, how do you know it was Dr. Burke?"
Christina asked, her voice tense.
Adam glanced at her.
Christina immediately looked away, guilty.
She was the one who had looked up the old records.
She had originally planned to warn Dr. Burke in advance because they'd been getting a little... close lately.
That's right.
The elderly nurse with pancreatic cancer from last time had ultimately chosen not to undergo surgery and had passed away naturally.
In her final moments, Christina had an emotional outburst, insisting on resuscitating her despite the signed DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order. Dr. Burke had pulled her away.
In the stairwell, as he comforted her, their faces had been just inches apart, their breaths mingling—sparking an undeniable moment of chemistry.
This morning, Dr. Burke had even brought her a latte. The implication was clear.
And Christina was happy about it.
For one thing, she had always been drawn to highly skilled professionals, especially in cardiothoracic surgery.
Dr. Burke was tall, a little dark-skinned, but had a refined elegance—an undeniable charm.
For someone like her, who practically lived at the hospital 24/7, having a colleague who could provide a little... release was definitely a perk.
On top of that, Meredith's endless special privileges were starting to get on her nerves.
If Meredith had chosen neurosurgery with attending physician Dr. Shepherd, then she would go for cardiothoracic surgery with Dr. Burke. After all, once residency ended and they moved on to specialty training, cardiothoracic surgery was her goal.
If they became "mutually beneficial friends," then the next time a coronary artery bypass surgery opportunity came up, it wouldn't be Meredith getting into the OR—it would be her.
So, she had originally planned to warn Dr. Burke first.
But when she saw him confidently tell her that nothing could shake him, she suddenly hesitated.
If Dr. Burke chose to bury the report, she would be complicit.
For an uncertain relationship, was it worth taking such a huge risk?
Rational as she was, Christina had no intention of doing that.
So, she had followed Dr. Bailey's instructions, retrieved the old records, handed them over, and kept her mouth shut.
Later, she saw Dr. Bailey give the records to Dr. Burke.
That left her with mixed feelings.
So, Dr. Bailey was like this too?
If she had known, she might have been the one to trade that favor...
But now, George had blurted out that Dr. Burke was the lead surgeon.
That made Christina nervous.
Were there backup records somewhere?
Good thing she hadn't helped cover it up!