Chapter 32

New York, August, Thursday/Friday—Present Time

I called Pauline from the train. This was no longer an exciting ride through the Alps but a nail-biting tedious journey on two trains: the first from Lake Thun to Bern, and the next from Bern to Paris. I was exhausted, yet I couldn’t sleep. I called Pavel, then the hospital. I received the phone numbers for the funeral home, but every time I turned on my phone to dial one of the numbers, something inside me cracked.

Texts from David flashed across the screen, but I deleted them without looking. He had somehow managed to get hold of my phone and add all his contact information. I thought I should probably delete his number, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. The memory of his body pressed against mine, his arms holding me last night as I lay on his chest, was too strong. His words, “It’s not your fault” when I told him about Ella’s death, and the way he stroked me when I cried on his shoulder… I wiped the tears and stared at the mountains, willing them to give me their silent, stoic strength.

I was going through the security checkpoint at Charles de Gaulle Airport when I saw Pauline waving at me, a plane ticket in her hand, from the other side of the security scanner.

“What are you doing here, you crazy woman?” I cried out and rushed through the scanner, barely avoiding a body search.

She held me tight. “I had nothing else to do this weekend. Nicolas is in South Africa, scouting locations. I was alone. And so were you.”

“But you can’t just run out to New York! Can you?”

“Of course I can.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I am the queen of my own business. Also, I need to buy more photos for my gallery. I was planning to go in September, but now will work too. Let’s go, or we miss our flight.”

During the long flight, she listened to all of my stories about Bern and Spiez and David, then put on her sleep mask and slept peacefully. I took off the darn ring and tucked it away on the bottom of my backpack. Living someone else’s life hadn’t been helpful for me at all. I prayed. Prayed that a mistake had been made and my grandmother was still alive. After all, I had yet to see her body. I counted the minutes until landing.

“You look like shit,” Pauline remarked when we landed in New York ten hours later.

“I love you so much,” I said, dragging her through Customs.

“I love you too, stupid.”

It was after midnight when we arrived at Pauline’s hotel, where I finally collapsed from jet lag and exhaustion. The next morning, Pauline held me while I learned the details of my grandmother’s passing at the hospital. She did die peacefully in her sleep. She arrived in the ambulance with Alina, her neighbor. My phone number wasn’t given as a contact, only the neighbor’s, so the hospital never knew to get in touch with me. She never fully regained consciousness after the stroke and never suffered. She was too old to live any longer, with her advanced heart disease and kidney failure. I should be glad she went peacefully, the doctor explained.

Pauline forced me to eat some food before meeting with the Dean about my residency. She wanted to come with me, but I told her to meet me afterward. This was something I had to face on my own. All terrible things happen in threes, Baba always said, so I might as well get this all over with in one day and start a new life next week. I took a long walk to help gather my thoughts and calm my nerves. Three cups of street coffee later, I was able to approach the tall gray hospital building looming sinisterly over me.

The revolving door, so familiar for many years, felt heavy and squeaked loudly in my ears as I pushed it. The sounds of the first-floor emergency room grated on my raw nerves.

I can do this. I know what to say.

I walked to the security desk to check in. I no longer had my resident ID badge. I was no longer welcome here.

“I need a visitor’s ID,” I said to the security officer. “I have a meeting with Dr. Haber. In the administrative suite.”

“Name and ID.”

A loud voice sounded behind me. “Maya? Dr. Radelis? Look at you! You look so good!”

I turned around, a smile forming on my face despite my nervous state. I would know that voice anywhere. Gayla Cole was a pulmonary nurse and one of the last nurses I had worked with, a kind, generous person who was motherly to every sick child and universally loved by all doctors and residents. I stretched out my arms and was rewarded with a warm hug.

“I wondered what happened to you! I haven’t seen you in ages! I thought maybe you changed your mind about Pulmonary after what happened with Hailey. It was such a shame with that poor girl—I just can’t stop thinking about her. That asshole, Dr. Asher, I just can’t believe he drove her to take her own life. She was such a darling girl.” She shook her head.

“Thank you,” I said to the security guard, taking my Visitor sticker.

Then I shuddered as the full force of Gayla’s rambling words hit my consciousness. I swung around.

“What did you say?”

“About what, dear?” She was rummaging in her purse for something.

I wanted to shake her. “About Dr. Asher? And Hailey?”

“Oh, that? The day she hanged herself? I went to give her the lab slip and prescriptions you ordered, and she was sobbing, heartbroken. I asked her what was the matter, and she said Dr. Asher told her she was going to die in less than a year. He saw her right after you did. He had to sign off on your charting.”

My knees threatened to buckle under me. “But I thought he wasn’t there that morning…”

“Oh, he was! But he was busy having breakfast with the donors. You know how it is—everyone always wants to give him money. He’s such a big star and all. Then he showed up as you left for your hospital rounds, just to take credit for seeing her.”

I grabbed her by the shoulders. “Gayla, do you understand that this is really important?” I couldn’t find the words. “Didn’t anyone ask you about this before? About Hailey?”

“No, why would they? No one at this hospital cares what the nurses have to say. Nurses and residents are invisible.”

My vision was going in and out. Little spots danced in front of my eyes.

“You’re turning white, Dr. Radelis. Should you sit down? Are you ill?”

“I’m actually fine… I just never knew it was Asher…” Strangled words came out of my throat.

“You got blamed for this, didn’t you? Is that why you’ve been gone?” She pointed at my Visitor sticker. “They asked you to take a leave? The girls and I knew it!” She tossed her head back, eyes blazing with fury. “Those bastards. I just knew they would find a resident to blame. That’s how it always is. Nurses or residents!”

“I did get blamed for this. But now that you’ve told me about Asher and I know it wasn’t my fault, I think it will all be better,” I said. My vision had recovered and I straightened up, energy surging through me suddenly. I felt all my guilt and all my fear vanish forever.

“You thought it was your fault? Oh, but of course you did… You thought you were the last person who spoke with her. Oh, dear.” She grabbed me in another hug and patted my back gently.

“I’ll be all right now. Thank you.” I smiled at her. I was certain, absolutely certain I would be fine now.

“Why are you here today? Are you starting back up?”

“No, they’re holding a meeting to place me on probation. But they won’t be able to do that anymore, because I’m going to fight.”

“Don’t let those administrative suits and asshole doctors make you think you’re not a good doctor. Your patients loved you. You are a great doctor. You go get them! And then come see the rest of the girls.”

“I will. I promise. I’m back now. For good.”

“Oh, and as you’re meeting with them up in administration? You may want to mention that the nurses know how to file an ethics complaint against Asher. And we have several in mind. This isn’t the first time he’s driven a patient to do something desperate and blamed it on a resident.”

My jaw dropped, but she was already walking away. I laughed to myself and marched to the administration department. I had nothing to fear now.

I walked confidently past the reception desk and straight into Haber’s office. Madeleine ran after me, protesting, but I ignored her. I had the upper hand. The residency director stood up, face reddening, then waved dismissively to his assistant.

“Great to see you, Dr. Haber. Madeleine…” I turned and gave her a fake smile. “Can I have a coffee, please? Cream, two sugars?” I threw my bag on one armchair and sat in the other, legs crossed, arms stretching.

“Dr. Radelis,” Haber began.

I stopped him with a wave of my hand. “I know, I know. I’ve violated policy. Whatever. You want me on probation. I see the thick packet of papers you have sitting there.” I nodded toward it. “But let me tell you what I also know. I had exemplary evaluations until I got to Pulmonology. I was headed for the Chief Resident position. I’m a great doctor. I left and didn’t want to return because you and Dr. Asher wrote in my file that I made a mistake and caused a patient to kill herself. But I know now that it was actually Dr. Asher who caused Hailey’s suicide.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That is a highly inappropriate accusation, and it is not helping your case in any way.”

“I have several witnesses, Dr. Haber, who will be happy to report to the Ethics Committee today. They’ll also write to the Medical Executive Committee and to the American Council of Graduate Medical Education. I can also draft a nice long statement about resident abuse at this hospital.”

“Are you threatening me? Do you realize that, as a resident, you still have three years to spend at this hospital?”

“I do. Very much so. I’d like to get on with it. So please call down to Security so I can get my badge back and we can forget the whole thing ever happened.”

Madeleine walked in, carrying my Styrofoam cup of coffee.

“Thanks.” I took a sip. “It’s perfect. I think Dr. Haber needs you to toss something in the confidential shredder?”

I gave him a challenging look. The air in the room hung heavy. Then I smelled my victory.

“Yes, Madeline. Please shred this,” he said through his teeth. He handed her the ominous stack of white papers with my name on them.

I stood up, adrenaline still pumping through me, and started to leave with my head held high.

Then I turned, remembering. “Oh, and Dean Haber, I’d have a talk with Dr. Asher, if I were you. I’m going to be here for another three years, so I’ll be paying attention to patient stories now about his interactions with them, and I happen to have a strong interest in Pulmonology.”

I walked out, ignoring the murderous look on his face. I left the administrative suite, ran to the bathroom, and leaned over a sink, breathing heavily.

Did I just stand up to Dean Haber? Did I threaten him? Did it actually work?

I opened the tap and splashed cold water on my now burning cheeks. The face in the mirror looked defiant, angry, with eyes blazing. Why wasn’t I scared? I began to laugh, first little giggles, then bursting into full, loud laughter. His face when I threatened him! I think he was frightened. Why was I ever scared of him before? I took a deep breath to settle down.

I was back!

I couldn’t wait to tell Pauline. I couldn’t wait to tell… Oh…David! I would fix it with David next. Right after I’d buried my grandmother and dealt with my grief over losing my only family member. But one thing was certain—I would never allow anyone to ever take Medicine away from me again.