After being banned by my biological father, I started a new life

"We need people right now. Can you start in three days?"

I smiled and agreed, then hung up.

Honestly, my father's cardiology department wasn't even ranked that high nationally. I'd only been so set on joining because I wanted to fight alongside him. Now that I no longer needed to... I could finally chase my own dream.

For days after, Dad never reached out—but the relatives did. First, my uncle.

"Alice, don't be so immature! Your dad is the Gilbert family's public face. If you—a little girl—cost him his career over some petty grudge, the whole family will never forgive you!"

Then my aunt.

"Alice, how can you compete with your own father? He has a point—if you join his hospital, even if you earned it yourself, people will gossip that he played favorites! You need to know how to avoid that. Don't ever go to his hospital again, you hear me?!"

"Don't worry, Aunt. I'll never go again. I've already cut him off!"

"Then I hope you'll practice what you preach! Next time your daughter's daughter-in-law's friend has a second baby, don't come crawling to him for hospital favors!"

I hung up on her mid-rant. Thinking about it now, Dad's so-called "avoiding suspicion" had only ever meant avoiding me.

I was about to prepare my documents for starting work when Mercy General called. The voice on the other end stuttered.

"Sorry, Ms. Gilbert. The offer was... sent to the wrong person. You don't need to come in after all..."

My legs buckled. I nearly collapsed.

"Wrong person? I have the recording of your director's call right here. That clear of an invitation, and you're saying it was a mistake?!"

After a long silence, a steady but helpless voice came through.

"Alice, some of our weaker departments still rely on your father. He spoke to us..."

My vision went black. I crumpled to the floor. I didn't catch the rest of what he said. After hanging up, I opened my email—the hundred-plus enthusiastic offers I'd received just that morning had all turned into rejections.

I shattered.

Staggering to my feet, I gripped my phone and rushed back to my father's hospital.

Today was his exclusive interview with Capital City Broadcasting—the one about "mentoring students everywhere." I shoved through the thick wall of reporters, hit play on the recording, and charged in.

"Nathaniel Gilbert! For your precious reputation, I already gave up my spot to your favorite disciple. Why won't you leave me alone?!"

"Mercy General already sent me an offer. What gives you the right to make them take it back?!"

The set—seconds ago filled with laughter—went deathly silent. The only sound was the director's helpless sigh echoing from my phone through the massive room. The reporters outside exchanged stunned glances.

My father's face went livid. He shot up from his chair and swung.

"Ungrateful wretch! How dare you call your father by his name in public?! All those years of education—did you learn nothing?!"

The slap landed like fire. My head spun. A salty, metallic taste flooded my mouth. I wiped my lip—blood.