Fall From Grace Page 6

  Valerie lifted Stephanie’s hand to her lips and kissed her fingers tenderly. “I don’t know, darling. But you must trust that God is never without a plan.”

  Stephanie meant to laugh dryly, but the sound that came out was much closer to a sob. “What kind of plan could this possibly be?”

  Valerie placed her hand on the table between them, covering it with her own. “Maybe you should ask,” she said.

  There was no more talk of Rachel after that. Stephanie finished her coffee, rinsed the cup, and retraced her steps up the stairs to her room. She closed the door behind her, walked over to the window seat, and knelt in front of it with her hands folded on the cushion, just as she had when she was a little girl. The sun’s rays warmed her hair through the glass; she bowed her head and closed her eyes. She prayed.

  Chapter 8

  It was dark in Kevin’s apartment. The curtains had been drawn since he’d returned from his shift at Harbor, and he sat sprawled on the sofa in the gloom, the television splashing muted colors across his face. Even though his eyes seemed fixed on the screen, his mind was somewhere far away, back among the files at the office.

  Rachel Knight’s face floated around his memory, at first bright and smiling in her eighth-grade school portrait, and then paper-pale on the examination table in the ER, her sky-blue eyes closed for good. She haunted him day and night, at home and at work, and in the rare moments when she left him alone, Sarah took her place. And Kevin understood that his peaceful nights at home alone had come to a bitter end; this was his punishment for the things he had failed to do.

  He resigned himself to it wholeheartedly. Even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t get over their deaths, or the fact that it had fallen to him to save them, and he couldn’t manage to. He kept the TV on all the time because sleep was becoming a thing of the past, and when he got too exhausted to continue without it, his fitful rests were punctuated by nightmarish flashbacks of both those nights, occasionally rolled into one.

  In his dreams, the girls took turns coming in through the emergency doors on the stretcher. He imagined them alive, talking, saying unintelligible things that he struggled to understand. And at the end of the nightmares, they either died or faded away into nothingness, backed by the sound of the monitor’s flat line.

  Often, Kevin would wake from these dreams in a cold sweat, feeling as though he had been asleep for years, but whenever he looked at the clock, only an hour or two had passed. At work, he got debilitating headaches accompanied by resurgence of the flashbacks, and sometimes he would have to duck out of his office, or even off the floor. Suddenly, he couldn’t stand to look at Harbor Hospital anymore. Everything about it—the tiled floors, the nauseating fluorescent lights, the way the double doors swung on their hinges—made him sick to his stomach.

  His solution was to call out sick his shifts. At first, it was only once in a while, but as his mental and emotional condition worsened, he stayed home more and more, planted in front of the muted television. If he did show up, he was trailed through the halls by whispers and furtive but pitying glances. A few of his coworkers came up to ask him how he was doing, and if he needed anything, and although he sincerely did appreciate the gestures of kindness, he always dismissed them with a fake smile and an even faker reassurance that everything was fine.

  As time went on, he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. His motivations were gone. Nothing moved him anymore. During times of crisis on the ER floor, he gave orders like a robot, without any of the personal investment that used to endear him to patients and colleagues alike.

  In Kevin’s own head, the strategy was simple. Distance yourself. Don’t let things get to you. Feel nothing. But his personal detachment didn’t keep people out of danger, and he knew his strategy came up short. Every time he saw a young victim, particularly a girl, his chest tightened up, and he found it difficult to breathe. He saw Rachel and Sarah in all of their faces, even if they looked nothing like the girls. It was impossible to work. He was unable to handle his crippling fear of yet another failure.

  Kevin spent the remainder of the evening aimlessly flipping through channels, trying to focus on anything that would mute the constant noise of confusion raging in his head. But the only successful distraction that lulled him off to sleep was a show about an amusement park in Florida, a place popular with all the families, a place Sarah had wanted to visit.

  ***

  The afternoon of his final shift for the week, Kevin spent most of the day in his office, restlessly thumbing through Rachel’s file. By now, he’d seen the words so many times he had them memorized, but the action was compulsive, and her face always seemed to be on the edges of slipping away. He had to remind himself so that he would never forget her.

  The day had been incredibly slow, much like the calm hours before Rachel’s life-shattering storm. Food poisoning, high fever, one severe allergic reaction. He sent his assistants home a little early, wanting some time alone to think. Sitting in the office chair, he half listened for the sound of the doors opening, and after fifteen minutes of silence, he picked up Rachel’s folder and walked across the hall to the copier room with it tucked under his arm.

  Tension spread like wildfire throughout his body. He was about to do something that would be subject to disciplinary action, maybe even termination, if he was caught, but Kevin no longer cared about the future of his career. At the moment, he could only focus on living in the memory of the past. He only wanted to wallow in the avalanche of pain he felt, feeling it was the least he could do to atone for his sins.

  He slid the papers out of Rachel’s folder and laid them on the glass of the copier, side by side until they’d all been replicated in a crisp, warm pile. Then he took everything back to his computer and placed the original file safely away, tucking the copies into his briefcase. His head snapped around at the sound of the door opening.

  “What are you doing, Kev?”

  His eyelids froze as he stared at Becca with apathetic eyes.

  “Those are legal documents. You know you can’t make photocopies of a patient’s chart. That’s a violation of the HIPPA privacy act. You can get in trouble with the law, not to mention the board.” She had a look of stern disapproval on her face.

  “Yeah, I know what the HIPPA privacy act is,” he said with a careless voice as he turned from her and tried to stuff the last paper inside his already disorganized briefcase.

  Her hand shot out before he could blink, and grabbed the handle of his briefcase. He almost let it go but pulled back at the last second. Her hand skimmed across his knuckle, and her face twisted with a look of pure evil. He recognized that look and dreaded the drama that was about to unfold.

  Never one to be outdone, especially by a man who had already rejected her twice, she reached out and snatched a handful of the papers. He reached out to grab them from her, but she slithered away from him and hid them behind her back. Kevin clenched his teeth as he contemplated his next move. All he wanted to do was photocopy a few pages and slip unnoticed out of the hospital. But now his integrity and possibly the future of his job was at stake, and his mind desperately searched for a solution to his dilemma.

  “Look, I have a solution for the both of us.” She smiled seductively at him as she ran her finger down the front of her red shirt. The red on her nails matched the shirt perfectly, and she giggled as she stopped the tip of her finger between her breasts. Go out with me, and we can pick up where we left off. I won’t say a thing to anyone about what you’re doing. Or I can go straight to the chief and tell him about your violation and what I saw here today.” Her eyebrow raised as she looked at him and waited for his answer.

  Kevin’s eyes widened. Was this the same woman he had dated for three years? The one who had professed her undying love for him when they had broken up? The same one he had spent close moments with? He wagged his head with disbelief. “How could you say that to me? After everything we’ve been through? I thought you cared about me.”

  Her lips fo
rmed a pout as she looked at him. “Oh, honey I do, but this is the game of life. And if I don’t look out for myself, nobody else will. And that includes you, Kev. Did you really think it was going to be that easy to walk away from me just because you found God in your weakest moment?” The tension eased momentarily from Becca’s face. “I cared so much about you and when you rejected me, it crushed my heart.”

  The air rushed out of her lips. “I want you Kevin. I want it like it was before. I loved you more than any other man, and then this stupid religious nonsense got you all high and mighty.” Her lips pressed tightly together for a second. “Well, now the tables have turned. We can continue our relationship just like before, or I’ll have a nice little chat with Dr. Miller and maybe even the board too. You know they can suspend your license for this, right?”

  “Neither of us are the same people we once were Becca. My life belongs to God, and I can’t go back to my old life. What we had was special, and I’ll never forget our good times together. I love you Becca, but it’s not the same kind of love that we had. And I can’t believe what you just said to me. You’re not the same woman I cared about before. What’s gotten into you? How could you try to blackmail me?” He heard the tension in his voice.

  Kevin gazed boldly into her eyes as his arms crossed his chest. “You do what you need to do Becca, but I won’t sleep with you again, and I won’t turn my back on God. He’s done too much for my life since Sarah’s death.” He forced a sigh from his lips. “You’ll never know how depressed I became after her death, and if it weren’t for the church’s help, I don’t know where I’d be today. I’m sorry but you can’t change my mind.”

  A chill traveled down Kevin’s spine as her face distorted with the contemptuous look of a witch. She slowly made her way to him and poked him in the chest. “You’re messing with fire, Dr. Pierce. I suggest you get a head start on packing your things. I promise you’re going to regret this day for the rest of your life. You’ll wish you never rejected me for something that isn’t real.” She shoved her finger into his chest one more time before spinning and stomping from the room.

  Kevin’s shoulders drooped as the tension drained from his body. Things had quickly escalated out of control, and now his future with Harbor Hospital was on the line.

  Would Becca follow through with her threats? Or was she full of hot air, trying to force him to return into her arms?

  He slumped into the chair beside him and quickly stuffed the remaining papers into his briefcase. How could she do this to him? He knew if the hospital didn’t have proof of his misbehavior, it would be her word as senior physician against his, and the odds would be in her favor. But for some strange reason, Kevin didn’t care what the odds were. He felt numb to everything in his life and had lost the fire of enthusiasm he once had at the start of his residency. Given a choice, he would prefer to sit at home and feel sorry for himself than do what he was trained to do, and that was saving lives.

  He quickly rose out of the chair and exited his office, nearly colliding with another co-worker passing down the hall.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Morton, I didn’t see you.”

  “In a rush to the ER?” Dr. Morton chuckled.

  Kevin gave him a nervous laugh. “No, I just got off duty. It’s just been a long day.”

  “Well, you might want to slow down just a little and enjoy your time off. It’ll help you live longer. It’s already crazy enough here at work.”

  “Thanks, I’ll try and do that.” Kevin smiled. “Have a good one, it’s been a little slower than normal.”

  The physician smiled easily. “If we’re lucky, it won’t pick up.” He was one of the staff who had been present at Rachel’s death, and he did not question Kevin as to why he was alone in the wing, or where his team was. He knew, perhaps better than anyone, that Kevin wasn’t in the best state of mind. As he passed by on his way down the hall, he gave Kevin a brotherly pat on the shoulder. “You take care, Pierce,” he said. “I mean it.” It was a clue.

  Kevin didn’t catch it. “You too,” he replied absently, stepping out the door. The case in his hand felt weighed down by countless terrible burdens, and yet he knew he couldn’t put it down. He could see it in his peripheral vision as he drove, lying innocuously in the passenger’s seat. He was sure it looked normal to everyone else except for Becca.

  He tried to fight the images of her speaking with Dr. Miller. There was no sense worrying about something he had no control over. All he wanted to do now was wallow in memories of the past. The moment he changed out of his work clothes and spread out on the sofa, all illusions disappeared, and he became the perfect personification of a downward spiral, a dizzying fall from grace.

  Finally, he had Rachel’s report to feed his pain. Upstairs, in the study by the bedroom, he found something else. It was a newspaper clipping, slightly faded and dog-eared on the upper corner. At the top, the headline read, “13-Year-Old Girl Succumbs to Injuries Following Drunk-Driving Incident.” Below, a picture of Sarah gazed out at him from the inset, her smile wide and gap-toothed.

  Crystal had just told him how Sarah would be needing braces, and how she wasn’t looking forward to the years of keeping track of rubber bands and retainers. Kevin had laughed and told his sister to think of how beautiful Sarah’s smile would be when it was all over. “Literally worth thousands of dollars.”

  “It better be,” Crystal joked back. But, of course, that never came to pass. Still, he couldn’t help but smile himself at that goofy grin. He smoothed the article out against the desk and brought it back down to the couch, where he added it to Rachel’s papers on the coffee table. He leaned over the spread, looking at the two of them side by side for the first time. They could have been sisters. Maybe twins.

  He sighed. It was no wonder Rachel’s case had gotten so deeply into his brain. He had known as soon as he saw Rachel’s face that losing her would be losing Sarah all over again, but he hadn’t expected the loss to keep hurting the way it did. He was incapacitated by a void of black, crushing guilt.

  That night, his dreams intensified, sending his unconscious self-reeling through eerie, familiar and yet alien scenes: hospital wards, dark highways dotted by the lights of oncoming cars, intersections with red lights like eyes in the night. Sarah and Rachel danced through the nightmares, sometimes separate, sometimes together, and sometimes, he thought, one and the same.

  Chapter 9

  The morning after his encounter with Becca, he woke from another one of these journeys feeling drained and battered. But something felt different about today. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t see through the fog of depression and motivate himself to go to work. The familiar voice of reason that pulled him out of bed each day had gone missing.

  When he finally shoved himself out of bed half an hour later, the phone on his bureau rang; even half-asleep, he recognized the number for Harbor Hospital, and the last dregs of his sense of duty commanded him to pick up. “Hello?”

  “Kevin, hi.” The warmly compassionate voice belonged to one of the emergency room senior staff, and he immediately tried to force the remnants of sleep from his brain. “How are you?” she was asking.

  “I ...” In the face of her sincerity, his fragile façade crumbled slightly. “I’ve been better.”

  “I know.” She paused. “Listen, this isn’t easy for me to tell you, but ... the hospital has decided to let you go. For now. There’s been some suspicion about your actions lately. It has come to our attention that you may have copied some files, and you know that’s a violation of the HIPAA laws. Dr. Miller has also expressed his concerns that you haven’t been yourself lately, and your performance at work has suffered. ” Her last words were tacked on hastily as if she thought he would pitch a fit without them. “We’re really concerned about you, Kevin. We think it would be best if you took a leave of absence from Harbor until an investigation is completed and until you can come to grips with the circumstances surrounding Rachel Knight.”

 
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds as Kevin willed himself to say something intelligent but drew a blank.

  “You’re an excellent doctor Kevin, and I know you’re going through a lot, and I think it’s clouded your judgment and has affected your performance lately. I believe you can rise to the occasion and be the doctor you once were, but it’s going to take some time for you to heal and get over this. You know how the administration frowns upon anything that would damage its reputation, and they feel it would be better for all parties if you took a leave of absence. Take some time off and spend it with your family, or you might want to take an extended vacation if you haven’t been on one lately.”

  “Thank you,” Kevin said. “I understand the hospital’s position and I’m sorry.” He felt no emotion as he expressed his apology. “I’m sorry.”

  “Things happen for a reason,” she told him. “I really hope you find the help you need and heal from this devastation. I fear if you don’t, the world will never know how great you can be.”

  He thanked her again robotically, then placed the phone gently back into its cradle. His feet found their way back to the bed, and he collapsed onto the mattress, his face pressed into the rumpled bedspread.

  That was it. The bright dreams of his future had been extinguished. He was officially disgraced.

  Kevin didn’t know how long he lay prone on the bed, but eventually he rolled over and stared at the shadowy ceiling. What would he do now? What could he do? He could stay in LA, languishing in the ruins of his collapsed career, or he could make a break for it and try his luck somewhere new. Far enough where no one would know him.

  He nodded to himself. That seemed right. There was a place he had gone a few times as a boy, a small town perched on the edge of the ocean and full of art. The name tugged at the edge of his recollection—something beginning with an M. He’d find it on a map later; he could see where it was, just north of the crook of California’s elbow. Closing his eyes, he let the imaginary sound of breaking waves lull him back toward sleep.