Chapter 7 - A Nurse Without a License
Z
The first thing Sterling did after learning that Hannah had visited was summon me to the formal dining room.
A fire burned in the marble fireplace. Four men sat around the long table, each dressed as if he were attending a funeral. Sterling stood at the head, holding a document.
“Mrs. Kane,” he said, “you've violated the conditions of your agreement.”
“What conditions?”
“You've interfered with Everett's care, consulted an unauthorized physician, and accessed private family records.”
“I documented what I saw.”
“You are not a licensed nurse.”
“I know.”
“Then perhaps you understand why no one should trust your judgment.”
The words hit harder than I wanted them to. For a moment, I was back in the hospital hearing Whitfield tell the review board that I had made a fatal mistake.
I saw the patient I hadn't been able to save.
I heard my fiancé saying he couldn't build a future with a woman whose career was over.
Then I looked at Sterling.
“You can take my job,” I said. “You can take my home. You can tell people whatever you want about me. But you cannot make me pretend I haven't seen what I've seen.”
Sterling placed the document on the table.
“Sign this statement confirming that all medical decisions have been made under Dr. Whitfield's supervision and that you have no concerns about Everett's care. Then you may remain here.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Your mother's placement will be reconsidered.”
One of the men shifted uncomfortably.
I noticed it.
Not everyone in the room was comfortable with what Sterling was doing.
I picked up the statement and read every line. It required me to certify that I had never observed irregular medication administration and that my notes were speculative.
Signing it would destroy the evidence I had collected.
I set it down.
“No.”
Sterling's expression hardened.
“You have until midnight.”
He dismissed the others with a gesture. When the room emptied, he leaned across the table.
“You think you're a hero because you read to a man in a bed?”
“No.”
“You think he loves you?”
“I didn't say that.”
“He doesn't even know you.”
“He knows I haven't abandoned him.”
Sterling laughed.
“That's what you tell yourself to make this arrangement feel noble. You're a desperate woman who married a dying man for money. Don't confuse necessity with virtue.”
I rose.
“Perhaps I did marry him because I needed help. But I stayed because he deserves the truth.”
I walked out before he could answer.
That evening, I called my mother's clinic again. I asked to speak to her directly, and when the nurse put the phone to her ear, I heard my mother's familiar voice.
“Emily?”
I hadn't heard her sound so clear in weeks.
“Mom, how are you feeling?”
“Better today. The staff says someone paid the balance.”
“I'm working on something. I need you to trust me.”
“I've always trusted you.”
My throat tightened.
“I may have to tell people what happened at St. Ambrose.”
Silence.
Then she said, “You didn't do what they accused you of.”
“You weren't there.”
“No. But I raised you. You don't cut corners when someone is in your care. You never have.”
I closed my eyes.
For three years, I had wanted someone to say those words.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you, too. And Emily?”
“Yes?”
“Don't let the people who hurt you teach you to be cruel.”
After the call, I returned to Everett's room.
“I don't know if I can win,” I told him. “But I'm done letting them decide who I am.”
His hand shifted toward mine.
This time, I didn't wait for him to reach me.
I took his hand and held it gently.
For a few minutes, the machines were the only sounds in the room.
Then Everett's thumb moved across my knuckles.
May you like
It was the smallest gesture imaginable.
It felt like a promise.
