Chapter 5 Anything But Ordinary

Rylie ignored Timothy and Stacey and busied herself with the medical kit. She took out a decompression needle, felt the patient's chest, and unbuttoned his shirt to prepare for the procedure.

Her calm defiance caught Timothy's eye, prompting him to step directly in her path. "Look at him - clammy skin, ghostly complexion, and he collapsed in this sweltering heat. This is textbook heatstroke, maybe worsened by heart trouble. The right call is CPR. Bring him back that way!"

Stacey didn't waste a moment piling on. "Rylie, for once, just do as Professor Powell says. You nearly killed Nicolas with the wrong medicine yesterday. If you keep going like this, you'll end up in court!"

With Stacey stirring things up, murmurs rippled through the crowd. Hidden among the onlookers, some of Stacey's friends chimed in about Rylie's supposed poor grades, spreading doubt and fanning resentment.

At the edge of the crowd, a team from the nearby bio-research institute took notice and started moving closer.

Rylie's expression chilled as she seized Timothy's hands, halting his attempt at chest compressions. "This man's not drawing a single breath, and his trachea's off-center. He's got a tension pneumothorax. If you start CPR now, you'll just make things worse."

Such a challenge to his expertise - especially in front of his students - left Timothy red-faced. Yet, several research group members rallied around him, echoing his diagnosis.

"Rylie, stop spreading nonsense. Professor Powell's the expert here, not you!"

Unfazed, Rylie shook off Timothy's grasp, disinfected her instruments, and replied, "Cold sweats, pallor, collapse - pneumothorax can look just like heatstroke. But if you bother to check for a shifted trachea or a drum-like chest, you'll see the difference. Guess that's lost on a quack."

Her sharp words prompted a few medical students to lean in and study the patient themselves, curiosity overtaking their doubt.

"It looks like Rylie's diagnosis holds up," one student admitted, and Timothy's expression turned even grimmer.

Back straight and voice steady, Timothy retorted, "You're nothing more than a glorified assistant who just files paperwork, yet you think you're an expert? If you can revive him with that needle, the mentor's chair is yours!"

Rylie didn't waste another word. She finished sterilizing, deftly inserted the decompression needle, and with a sharp hiss, trapped air rushed out. Color crept back into the patient's face as his breathing returned at once.

"She was right all along! He had a pneumothorax!" a student shouted, awe coloring every word.

Recognition dawned across the faces in the room as those with medical training pieced together what had just happened - Timothy's assessment had been mistaken.

One student voiced what everyone was thinking. "If Rylie hadn't stood her ground and Professor Powell had pushed on with CPR, we would have had a disaster on our hands."

Even so, Timothy scrambled for justification. "Well... you've all misunderstood me. I actually recognized it was pneumothorax all along."

In an attempt to salvage his authority, he looked down at Rylie and the group, adding, "My intention was only to test Rylie. She has a reputation for cutting corners, after all."

Before she could get a word out, the patient - still weak, yet now radiating a quiet power - interrupted from the floor. "Did you risk my life just to prove a point with your student? That hardly qualifies you as a doctor, let alone a teacher."

Despite his lingering frailty, this man rose, his commanding presence impossible to ignore. Those striking features, combined with an unmistakable force of will, made Rylie sense that his identity was anything but ordinary.

She regarded him calmly and gave a simple instruction. "Save your strength and let the campus hospital run further tests."

The man nodded and, with a hoarse voice, said to Timothy, "You should apologize to my savior."

When he heard this, Timothy's composure slipped. "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

Not missing her chance to gain approval, Stacey chimed in quickly, "Rylie, Professor Powell's intentions were good. He cares about your growth. A kind teacher like him shouldn't have to apologize."

A sharp retort cut through the crowd. "And why shouldn't he?" The voice belonged to the dean, who had just arrived with several white-coated physicians in tow.

All eyes shifted as the dean hurried to the patient's side, bowing in recognition. "Mr. Owen, we're so sorry for this incident. You shouldn't have had to experience this chaos. Please, let us escort you to our facility for a proper check-up."

The name Owen rang out in Rylie's mind. She remembered hearing about the powerful family from Kouhron searching for their lost sibling. The gravity and presence this man carried left her with little doubt - she was looking at a member of that very family.

A team of doctors quickly appeared with a wheelchair, helping Felix Owen settle in. Despite their urgency, Felix stayed put, his presence radiating icy authority as he leveled his gaze. "Offer her an apology," he said, voice sharp as steel.

Any harm to an Owen family member on campus would have spelled disaster for the school. Sweat gathered on the dean's brow as he spun toward Timothy, his voice sharp. "You will apologize to Rylie right now! Do you value your position here or not?"

Surrounded by witnesses and cornered by the dean's command, Timothy could do nothing but lower his head. "I was wrong, Rylie. I apologize," he said, each word heavy with reluctant humiliation.

Anger simmered in Timothy's eyes even as he spoke. His fists clenched, and inwardly, he promised himself that Rylie would pay for this humiliation one day.

Packing her vial away, Rylie was just about to leave when Felix stopped her with a call.

He pressed a carved wooden token into her hand. "This is an Owen family token - redeemable for any favor. If you ever run into trouble or need something, just call the number on the back. Whatever you ask, it's yours."

The gesture gave Rylie pause. Recognizing its weight, she quietly accepted the token.

Once Felix was wheeled off under the dean's watchful eye, murmurs spread among the students nearby. "So that's why there were luxury cars lining the parking lot this morning. Looks like the Owen family really is here, searching for their lost daughter."

Shock rippled through the group. "Wait, are you saying their missing daughter is somewhere on campus? Who could it be?"

A shrug and a whisper followed, answering, "Nobody knows for sure. I just heard they traced her here."