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ROBIN STARED AT THE description on her computer screen, which confirmed her worst fear. Alex Reyes faced a malignancy as lethal as medulloblastoma, Munchausen by proxy. In current terminology, factitious disorder imposed on another—FDIA. A peculiar and malevolent form of child abuse in which parents, usually the mother, falsify, exaggerate, or even induce symptoms in young children. Robin read, shaking her head at the monstrous things a twisted person would deliberately inflict on a child to feed their own craving for attention from medical providers.
A deadly syndrome for the child, the mortality rate was as high as one out of three children.
She sat back in her chair. Gloria Reyes had Munchausen’s with Alex as her proxy. She knew it. The criteria jibed with the account LaToya had given her. Alex was in peril. The opiates Gloria administered to him alone could prove fatal. With a shudder, Robin wondered what else she might resort to, with the MATCH trial closed to them.
She knew her duty. As a nurse, she had a legal and ethical mandate to intervene and report Gloria to the child protection authorities at once.
She pictured Alex—thin, pale, eyes dark with suffering. His image resolved into sharper focus, suddenly familiar as Ben’s face, his eyes. It amazed her that she’d failed to see the resemblance. His child’s life was at stake.
Blindsided by a wave of emotion, Robin caught her breath. Ben had hidden his head in the sand and avoided responsibility for his own child. He’d used and deceived her. They were over. She would never trust him again. Feeling tiny and alone, she teetered at the brink of a deep, dark chasm.
Unbidden, an image of Will Kenton appeared in her mind. She yearned to talk with him. Whether she wanted his professional validation or his shoulder to cry on hardly mattered. On impulse, she sent him a text.
Things are weird here. Can we talk?
Moments later, her phone dinged. It had to be Will.
Her door flew open. Startled, Robin looked up as Steve strutted into her office as though it were his.
He smirked. “I’m onto you, Robin.”
She tried to imagine what he’d found out, but her mind had gone blank. Her phone dinged again. She glanced at it longingly but didn’t dare pick it up with Richman standing there.
“I’ve got you nailed six ways from Sunday.” He chuckled. “To begin with, perhaps you’d like to tell me what you did with your boyfriend’s MATCH lab report. It should be in the medical records file, and we both know it isn’t there.” He took a step closer. “You filched it, didn’t you?”
“I don’t...” It took her a moment to comprehend what Richman meant. When it hit Robin, her stomach clenched. She’d forgotten the report at Ben’s in the wake of all the drama. “I—I made a mistake, Steve. I shouldn’t have taken it out of the hospital. I’m sorry. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”
“No, Robin, you won’t.”
“Should I go get it right now?” She dreaded the prospect of returning to Ben’s townhouse.
Again, Richman wore a smug grin, milking the moment. “What I mean, Robin, is you won’t be here tomorrow.”
She recoiled as if he’d punched her. “But...”
“When I gave you that verbal warning, I knew you’d screw up.” He sounded triumphant.
Robin’s face flamed. “You’re threatening to let me go over a lab report I already offered to return?”
He sat on the corner of her desk. “I could, but there’s more.”
Crowded by his presence, Robin cringed.
“Do you want to tell me whose specimen you sent to the lab?”
“I told you Ben’s. I already admitted that.” With a sinking feeling, Robin realized she’d underestimated her boss. She braced for what might come next.
“I think you’re lying. You sent in a tissue sample for Alex Reyes, didn’t you?” He sneered. “Cousin Gloria’s little boy.”
Robin tried to steady her breathing, on the verge of hyperventilating. “What makes you say that, Steve?” He might suspect, but he couldn’t know.
Still perched on her desk, he leaned in, bringing his face close to hers. The citrus tang of his aftershave assaulted Robin’s nostrils, and she drew back involuntarily.
“I told you that woman you brought into the supply room seemed familiar.” Richman tapped the side of his head, as if to underscore his mental powers. “It took a day or so, then I remembered seeing her on the pediatric unit about a year ago during a meeting with Jim Carver.” He referred to his physician counterpart. “When I got to his office, he was, shall we say, encouraging her to leave?” He shook his head. “Believe me, the woman needed plenty of encouragement. She’s obviously a troublemaker. When he finally got her out of there, Jim gave me quite an earful about Gloria Reyes, enough to make her memorable.”
Robin grimaced. Apparently, LaToya had more discretion than her boss in the matter of patient confidentiality.
To her relief, Richman leaned back. “When I put two and two together, I checked in with Jim, and guess what we found.” He watched for her reaction.
“I—I wouldn’t know,” she murmured.
“It so happened Ms. Reyes signed out her son’s tumor specimen that very Saturday she came up here with you.” He raised his eyebrows. “You sent out a FedEx delivery, yes?” He spread his hands. “That’s quite a coincidence, Robin.”
Her heart sank. He had her.
Richman stood, all amusement vanishing from his face. “So, you not only defied my specific order against submitting a pediatric sample to the MATCH lab. You brought that—that lunatic onto our floor.” He glared. “That makes you not only insubordinate but crazy and irresponsible, Robin.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. She hated being one of those women who cried when she got angry. Avoiding Richman’s gaze, Robin shifted her eyes to the computer screen displaying the Munchausen by proxy criteria that fit Gloria so precisely. If only she could make Steve understand. She meant to stop Gloria, not undermine his authority. But he’d made up his mind. She doubted she could get a word out with her throat so constricted. It might as well be clogged with sawdust.
“I want your resignation, nurse.” Richman sniffed. “Effective immediately.”
Robin gasped. “What if I refuse to resign?” She meant it as a question, not a challenge.
But Richman glowered, no doubt hearing it as defiance. “Then I’ll report you to the state nursing association. When they hear what you’ve done, they’ll revoke your license.” He counted her transgressions on his fingers. “Insubordination, misrepresentation, research fraud. You’ll never work as a nurse again.”
A tear rolled down Robin’s face. He left her no choice.
Richman straightened to his full height. “You’re out of here, right now. I’ve already notified security. They’re on their way to escort you off the premises.”