25 

Juliet forgot how nicotine could act as a stimulant and interrupt sleep patterns. As badly as her body needed rest, she couldn’t seem to quiet her mind and drowse off after giving in to her former habit. She tried drinking warm milk. She tried taking a hot bath. She closed the blinds to keep out the light. Eventually, she resorted to turning on the television, hoping the background noise would lull her mind into sleep.

Even so, as she drifted into slumber, Juliet’s mind seemed caught on high-whirr mode and she slept fitfully.

She dreamed she was a little girl wearing a tiny white lab coat with her name embroidered across the upper front pocket. The room was—yes, it was her classroom, with her standing by Mrs. Myers’s desk and the rest of the students sitting at their desks. Susie Beckler and Janice Kirkland were parked in the front row with their hands neatly folded on their desktops. The curly-headed girls were smiling at her. Stinky Sam sat in the back, clearly not happy that sour-faced Mrs. Myers stood near.

They all kept staring, not saying a word.

Suddenly, Juliet’s father appeared next to her. “Okay, JuJu. Go ahead and add the food coloring,” he urged.

She was afraid.

At the back of the room, Mrs. Myers scowled and looked at the wall clock mounted above the classroom door.

Juliet felt her father’s hand on her back. “Go ahead.”

She looked up at his face, gathering needed confidence before she tentatively removed the lid on the tiny bottle of coloring. She let her hand hover over the beaker. Her heart pounded as she carefully squeezed.

The red coloring dropped into the beaker. Immediately, the substance inside exploded into a foaming mass. But instead of turning red, the ingredients morphed into a nasty brown and emitted a horribly foul odor. A smell she’d encountered before.

All the kids covered their noses. “Oh, yuck. That stinks,” they said in unison.

At the back of the room, Stinky Sam laughed . . . louder and louder until she couldn’t see anything but brown foam and hear anything but his laughter. She couldn’t breathe—the smell overwhelming.

Frantic, Juliet’s arms moved through the air, trying to locate her dad. She needed to climb into his arms, feel the security of his embrace.

In a full panic, her arms flailed at empty space next to her.

Nothing.

She heard his voice and called, “Dad? Dad, where are you?”

Suddenly, Juliet heard a loud ringing.

She startled awake. The brown foam receded. The laughter faded.

Her eyes snapped open.

Juliet sat up in bed, sweat beading her brow. She reached across the side table and slammed the top of her alarm clock, shutting down the loud noise, her head pounding as she peeked at the digital numbers displayed on the face.

Eleven o’clock.

Juliet rubbed her temples and tried to focus, fighting remnants of the weird dream, even her father’s voice.

Suddenly, reality materialized out of the fog. The voice was her father’s.

She reached for the remote and turned up the volume on the television, where the esteemed Dr. Bennett Ryan stood before a bank of microphones.

“E. coli O157:H7 was first confirmed in the United States in 1982. People of all ages can be infected, but young children and the elderly are more likely to develop severe symptoms related to hemolytic uremic syndrome, commonly known as HUS.”

A reporter threw up his hand and interrupted. “Could you pronounce that syndrome name again, please? And give us a spelling?”

Her father nodded. “HEE-mo-li-tic you-REE-mic syndrome.” He spelled the name and then cleared his throat before continuing.

“The types of E. coli that can cause illness can be transmitted through contaminated water or food, or through contact with animals or people. As demonstrated in the Jack in the Box outbreak in January of 1993, failure to incorporate proper measures to identify and eliminate this deadly pathogen in food products can have a catastrophic result.

“To counter this, in 1998, the Hazard Analysis and Critical Control Points program was established to identify critical checkpoints in the food production plants to prevent pathogens from contaminating meat and other food products. Sadly, since then, we’ve seen over a dozen major outbreaks. This incident at Larimar Springs is yet another example that more needs to be done to protect public safety.”

Juliet had had enough. She clicked off the television.

For several seconds, she sat on the edge of the bed with her hands clutched and head bowed, her heart an empty chasm. She had no right to get angry. Not really. Everything he’d said was justified.

Despite her best efforts, his daughter had let down her company, her industry, and especially the public. Three children had died on her watch. Even now, her own assistant’s little guy remained in a hospital bed, severely ill.

The only upside was that her mother had never witnessed her public humiliation. If she were here, all her mom would’ve had to do was look in her daughter’s eyes, and she’d have seen the depth of her shame.

“Oh, Mom—what have I done?”

She slipped from the edge of the bed onto the carpeted floor, gripped her stomach with both arms, and rocked back and forth, letting the full force of the past twenty-four hours pound her spirit.

Then Juliet did something that was long overdue.

She broke down and wept.