Page 159 of The Golden Hour

He does this twice more before his shoulders slump.

“I was just about to lie and say everything is fine,” he admits with a humorless huff. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Honey reaches out and lays a hand over his, stopping him from reaching for another screw. His face falls, and he lets out a shaky breath.

“Mason, what happened? You were fine, and then you talked to Ellen before she left and⁠⁠—”

“One of my trainees—” He winces, then amends, “Former trainees. Lowell. He… Ellen told me he fucked up at work. Badly. A little girl almost died, and it was… preventable.”

“That’s awful,” Honey says sympathetically, laying a hand over her chest. “That poor family.”

Mason nods.

“She came in sick. They looked her over and sent her home. A nurse told him something wasn’t right and begged him to order more tests, but Lowell refused, saying it was nothing but a cold,” he exhales a shaky breath and his voice cracks. “Her parents brought her back an hour later, and she… she almost died, Honey.”

Honey’s entire body goes still. She sees the agony in his eyes, the veins standing out along his neck and temples, the hard clenching of his jaw.

“Mason…”

“She almost died because Lowell didn’t listen,” Mason continues. “Because he thought he was the smartest person in the room. A nurse warned him something was wrong, and he just… dismissed her.”

Mason laughs helplessly.

The empty sound sends a shiver down Honey’s spine.

“Ellen didn’t want to tell me, but I just had to ask how things were at St. Mary’s,” Mason’s smile shakes.

“I asked her how the nursing strike went, and she told me they got everything they wanted. Better staffing protections, more paid time off, raises, formal reporting system,” His smile shakes. “St. Mary’s folded for them like a house of cards.”

Then he meets her eyes, a small, wry smile trembling on his lips.

“She said you helped with that.”

“Me?”

Mason nods.

“You made them bleed, Honey,” Mason says. “You stood in that room and made them afraid of what would happen if they kept ignoring women like you. The settlement, the bad press, the nurses finally having enough—it all came together.” His eyes soften. “You helped them.”

Honey’s eyes sting. She sometimes felt rather selfish for settling for money, wanting to rid themselves of St. Mary’s altogether. But to hear that she did something to help others, to help the nurses, to maybe help future patients feel brave enough to stand up to the system that puts profit over them…

It feels really fucking good.

Mason’s expression darkens again, and his eyes squeeze shut. Honey squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back, keeping a tight hold on her like she’s anchoring him to the earth.

Maybe she is. Maybe they’re anchoring each other.

“But I taught Lowell everything I knew, and he emulated me,” he sneers. “He wanted to be like Dr. Carpenter. The arrogant asshole who thought he was the smartest person in the room, so no one else was worth listening to.”

The hatred on his face makes Honey breathless.

“I was careless and egotistical. I saw patients as opportunities for praise instead of people with families, hopes, and dreams. And so… he emulated that,” Mason squeezes his eyes closed. “My leadership. My example.”

Mason scrubs his hands down his face.

“I’m still there in the people I taught. In the cycle I helped perpetuate. I walked away, but parts of me are still walking those halls.”

“And you are responsible for the example you set,” Honey says gently. “But you are not responsible for every choice Lowell made after you left.”