“Dr. Rutledge, may I have word?”
I lift my head. Dr. Woods, Naomi’s old psychiatrist, is standing in the doorway.
Tim Woods is 58 years old, with black hair that’s peppered with gray. Lines are forming around his eyes and, not surprisingly, around his lips. He never smiles. He is straight to the point—a factual kind of person. He’s at the end of his career, biding his time until he can retire. Maybe he once cared, but he doesn’t now.
It’s a fleeting thought, but I wonder if this career will siphon the determination out of me like it has Tim Woods. Will I too stop caring?
I shut the medical textbook in front of me and wave him in. “Of course.”
He glances at my book. “Were you busy?”
“Not at all.”
Tim takes a seat. I hardly speak to Dr. Woods so seeing him in my office is a surprise, to say the least.
“What can I help you with?” I say with a smile.
His fingers drum on the armrest. His eyes are somber. My smile starts to fade and my stomach starts to churn. Something’s wrong.
“I wanted to talk to you about Naomi Carradine.”
My gaze drifts to her file sitting on the corner of my desk. In the upper, right hand corner her name is written in black marker: CARRADINE, NAOMI.
“What about her?” I ask, my eyes on her file.
“I thought you should know that her mother signed her out of Fairfax.”
My head lifts slowly. I stare at Tim with disbelief. Did I just hear him right?
Tim watches me, his fingers steepled against his lips.
“What?” I ask faintly.
“As of today, Naomi is no longer a patient of Fairfax.”
Four years of college.
Four years of medical school.
Four years of residency.
Hours upon hours of studying. I trudged through all those years remembering why I wanted to be a psychiatrist: to help people.
Before I came to Fairfax I worked for a small private practice for two years. I would see moms stretched thin. A few teenagers down and in a hormonal rut they couldn’t get out of. There was nothing over the top. The opportunity to work here was by chance and I took it, anxious to show what I was really capable of.
I didn’t know what being a psychiatrist was until I arrived here. Until I took Naomi Carradine on as a patient. Every time I looked at Naomi, I saw a girl that when she looked in the mirror she saw nothing but darkness. I couldn’t ignore that.
“Why?” All I can come up with are one-word questions. I see all the progress that Naomi’s been making and it makes me feel sick to think that’s all been a waste.
Tim shrugs. “Her parents believe that her medications will be of more help.”
“You don’t agree with that, do you?”
“She’s getting better,” he argues weakly.
“She is. But not good enough to leave!” I explode. So unexpected. So unlike me. But my patience has snapped in half. “My sessions were going somewhere. She was so close to having a breakthrough. A few more sessions and she could’ve been released within six months.”
“Her mother doesn’t want a few more sessions. Time’s up.”
Dr. Woods watches me carefully. I stare down at my desk.
“I’ve barely had her,” I say quietly. “We were just now getting to the root of the problems!”
“We’re not against Naomi. We—”
My head shoots up. I pounce on his words. “Who’s we?”
Tim balks. “Me and her parents.”
I’ve been so focused on Naomi leaving that I didn’t even think how Tim even knew she was leaving.
“When did you speak with them?”
“I spoke to them just yesterday.”
“About what?” I fire back.
“I’m not your patient, Dr. Rutledge. There is no need to talk to me like one.”
“But she’s no longer your patient.”
“I understand that. But I felt her parents had a right to know what’s going on,” he says with a sharp edge to his voice.
“Absolutely. But if they wanted to know her progress they could call and talk to me. I would’ve gladly updated them on everything.” I looked him in the eye. “You’re not her doctor. It wasn’t your place.”
Tim gives me a hard look. “I spoke with them because, quite honestly, you’re too close to Naomi.”
“Excuse me?” I say very slowly.
“You seem to have a gray area with her. You are entirely too involved. You—”
“I know what you mean,” I say impatiently. “Don’t diagnose me.”
“Perhaps someone should, though. It’s very simple: You never become attached to your patients. You’re supposed to be the doctor in this situation, but you ignored that. You felt for this girl and cared for her when all you have to do is treat her and let her be on her way.”
When I leave at the end of the day, I make sure to leave my work in my office. But Naomi’s voice echoes in my head all the way home. Her face flashes through my mind as I eat dinner and get ready for bed. When I’m lying in bed, I see her file with her name printed in the right hand corner in clear, black letters on my ceiling.
Those letters start to mesh together and I lay there, hoping that they’ll stop moving and reveal the answer to Naomi’s problem.
Clearly that’s just me, though. Tim Woods has no such problem. He sits here with such ease, handing out biting insults like it’s candy.
“I’m trying to be good doctor to her,” I say.
“What about her ‘weekend pass’ last weekend? Were you being a good doctor then?”
I sit up straighter in my chair. “What?”
“Why weren’t her parents notified?”
“Is this why she was released, because I gave her a small break?”
“Naomi is not allowed to take a weekend pass. She can’t sign in and out of Fairfax. That decision isn’t hers to make. Yet you allowed her to sign herself out and Lachlan Halstead to pick her up.”
“She’s a patient. Not a prisoner.”
Dr. Woods’ lips are in a thin line. His disapproval is apparent. I suppose I broke some moral code for doctors by hiding the weekend pass from her parents. They put her in our care, but were supposed to be notified if she was leaving Fairfax. No matter how short the time was. But I can’t feel guilt over what I did. I know it was the right thing. Naomi came back from her weekend pass with a bright light in her eye. She was recharged. It was a boost that she needed.
“How did her parents even find out?” I ask suspiciously. “Wait,” I hold up a hand, “let me guess. You told them?”
Tim says nothing. In fact, the longer we talk, the more uncomfortable he becomes: shifting in his seat, adjusting his glasses every few seconds, clearing his throat like he’s trying to get something out. My eyes narrow on him.
“What do you know that I don’t?” I ask quietly.
“Nothing,” he says, his voice stiff and cold.
Liar, I think.
“Come on,” I coax. “Tell me the truth. Tell me why you accuse me of being too close to my patient, yet you take it upon yourself to call her parents and update them on everything that I’m doing. Again, this is with my patient.”
“You’re forgetting that she was my patient before you.”
I give him a hard look. “Outside of Fairfax, do you know her family?”
He answers way too quickly. “No!”
“Liar.” This time I say my thoughts out loud.
We look at each other for a moment. I have no intent of backing down. He came into my office. He told me she was leaving. He needs to explain it all to me.
Tim exhales loudly and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Naomi’s parents are… close friends of mine. Her dad expressed concern over Naomi’s behavior. I encouraged him to seek involuntary commitment so she could be admitted here. The plan was for her to stay here for just a few months to give Naomi a chance at getting better.”
I sit back heavily in my chair, feeling like I was just kicked in the stomach.
“So you did a,” I make quotation marks, “favor for them.”
“You could call it that,” he says carefully.
“And her parents were just buying time so they could figure out what they could do with her. Am I right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you didn’t have to say that. I’m not an idiot, Tim. Her parents never come to visit her. Not once. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to her parents before.”
“Hold your judgment,” Tim says sharply.
“Can you blame me for judging? This is their daughter.” I can’t hide the disdain from my voice. “So you pulled some strings to get her in here. Did you do the same to get her released?”
“Of course not!”
“Of course not,” I repeat slowly. “Never mind the fact that Naomi’s mom signed her into Fairfax, giving us consent to care for her daughter! And then she magically shows up and signs her daughter out because she feels like it!”
“Don’t tell me how this place runs,” he says harshly. “I’ve been practicing much longer than you.”
My palms are splayed on the desk as I lean close and say very slowly, “Then act like it.”
His eyes narrow into thin slits.
I grab my coat from the back of my chair and my purse from the floor. Anger makes my blood boil, and if I’m being honest, there’s a small bit of fear there too. I make my way to the door.
Tim shifts in the chair. “Where are you going?”
I hold the door open with my foot. “To talk to the facility director to put a stop to this.”
Tim takes off his glasses, inspects the lenses and cleans them with his white coat. “Naomi left with her mom an hour ago.”
I gape openly at him. His indifference to this entire situation speaks volumes. I realize that I would rather feel too much for my patients than nothing at all. I never want to turn into Tim Woods.
I look at him with disgust. “She’s not ready to go back in the world. If you were any kind of doctor, you would have pushed aside your relationship with her parents to do what’s right for her.”
I walk out of the room, not caring what he has to say.
“She’s just a patient. That’s it, Genevieve!” Tim yells. “Stop treating this girl like family!”
A nurse and two patients stop in the hall and stare at Tim with shock. I ignore all of them. As I hurry toward the entrance, I dig through my purse, searching for my keys.
“I’m just here to see Naomi,” a deep, male voice says.
I stop short and see Lachlan Halstead standing there.
I forget about my keys and make my way over to him. I interrupt his conversation with the nurse. “Have you talked to Naomi?” I ask impatiently.
I don’t have time to make polite conversation. Time is against me.
His brows furrow. He stands up straight. Those hazel eyes instantly become alert, as though Naomi’s name is a switch for him. Every single powerful memory in Naomi’s life comes from this man.
“No. Why? What’s going on? Where is she?”
I go to answer him when I notice the nurse behind the counter staring at us. I guide him away. “Her mom signed her out today.”
Blood drains from his face. He clenches his jaw, closes his eyes and looks away. There’s a terrifying second where I think he’s going to explode and lash out right in front of me.
“Lachlan, did you hear me?”
He nods and turns back to me.
“Did you—”
I speak up. “It wasn’t me who released her. I would’ve never let that happen. I just found out that her mom picked her up over an hour ago.”
He rubs a hand across his face. “Shit,” he whispers heatedly. “So who did?”
Lachlan has this look in his eye. Blank and void. It’s a look that someone has when they are driven by their anger. They won’t stop until they get to act out their aggression.
“That doesn’t matter,” I say smoothly. “I just need to find Naomi. Right now.”
Lachlan stares at me a second longer before he gestures to the parking lot. “Just follow me.”
I give him a grateful smile. My heart calms down and for a second I think everything will be okay. Lachlan and I are almost out the door. Just a few more steps. Then I hear Dr. Woods’ voice. So does Lachlan. He stops walking and whips his body around. I also turn. Dr. Woods walks into the reception area, laughing with the nurse next to him. He looks at the front doors, his gaze flitting away before he does a double take. His eyes widen, not at the sight of me, but at Lachlan. I realize these two know each other outside of Fairfax.
Lachlan advances. He doesn’t stop until he corners Dr. Woods, completely towering over him.
“Do you know what you just did?” Lachlan roars.
Dr. Woods turns pale. The nurse behind the front desk stands up. A few patients stop their activities and stare.
I run over to Lachlan and grab his arm, trying to push him back. Not for Dr. Woods’ interest, but for Naomi’s, because the quicker we get out of here with everyone scratch free, the better.
“You’ve turned a blind eye to everything. Fuckin’ makes me sick!” Lachlan’s voice is starting to turn hoarse.
I’ve got him a few steps away. A few more tugs and he would be out the door. But then Dr. Woods speaks.
“Lachlan, I did what was right. Her parents were concerned about her—”
“You’re a mother fucker!” Lachlan continues. “Do you hear me?”
“Now wait a minute, I—”
I pivot around and glare at Dr. Woods. “Just shut up,” I hiss.
My back has been turned no more than a few seconds, but by the time I turn around, Lachlan’s already peeling out of the parking lot.
I swear underneath my breath and run back to the front desk. The nurse is sitting there with a shocked look on her face.
“Give me Naomi Carradine’s address!” I say to her.
Her eyes widen. “Dr. Rutledge, I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“Just give it to me!” I snap.
She quickly looks up Naomi’s file and rattles off the address. I write it down, my hand shaking the entire time.
Dr. Woods steps into my way, holding his hands out. “Genevieve, calm down. You and Lachlan are clearly upset and—”
“Do you know Lachlan outside of Fairfax?”
He stares at me, saying nothing, before he nods. “I know his parents.”
I mutter a curse and walk around him.
“Think about what you’re doing!” Dr. Woods calls out behind me.
I whirl around, walking backwards, and pointing my finger directly at him. “I’m doing this because of what you allowed to happen this morning. Whatever happens is on you!”
I turn back around and run to my car. I can feel everyone’s eyes on my back. It occurs to me that my job is more than on the line. I can just about kiss my career good-bye. Even with that depressing thought looming above my head, I still slam my car door and follow after Lachlan. I finally realize that I probably am too close to Naomi and her story. I pushed myself into her world, where the truth was hidden by lies. The option to step back and do nothing has disappeared.
My mistake, but my choice.