Curious, she clicked on the story and read that a local pediatrician was thought to have killed his family and then himself a few nights ago. But the doctor’s father was challenging the story, saying that his son wasn’t behind the killings, and he had proof. Her interest piqued, she kept reading.
CHAPTER 19
RACHEL
RACHEL PUSHED THE door open to her apartment and carried her sleeping daughter inside. It was almost 1:00 p.m., and she was exhausted. They’d just stayed overnight at the hospital where the doctors had run a battery of tests, including a lumbar puncture. The good news was that everything had tested negative, and they had ruled out a brain tumor and other more serious things. The bad news was that Suzie was still behaving strangely. They had a consultation next week with a neurologist to have even more testing done.
Give it time. She’ll get better, Rachel tried to tell herself. She did last time.
Rachel thought again of what the emergency room doctor had said about other kids having bad reactions to Respira. She’d also mentioned her suspicions about the drug to the doctor who had overseen Suzie’s care in the pediatric ward. But he had quickly dismissed the possibility of Respira’s role in the seizures in pursuit of other causes. She couldn’t help but think that he was overlooking the most obvious cause. Then again, he’d gone to medical school and she hadn’t.
Rachel dragged the Pack ’n Play to the kitchen and lay Suzie down inside. There was no way she was going to let her daughter out of her sight. The hospital pediatrician who had discharged her said that seizures took a great toll on a body, both physically and mentally, so to not worry if she slept most of the day.
On the stove was the pot of half-cooked spaghetti she’d been boiling last night when she’d discovered Suzie was having a seizure. The noodles had hardened and clumped together. She dumped them in the garbage, scrubbed the pot, then set a teakettle on the burner to boil.
Something felt wrong. How could the emergency room doctor allude to the fact that Respira could be the reason for Suzie’s seizures while Dr. Winters and the other pediatrician were adamant it wasn’t? Why weren’t they all in agreement? Shouldn’t doctors be in agreement about things like this? It disturbed her that they weren’t.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Suzie move. Rachel turned to her and saw that her eyes were open. She grabbed a towel to dry her hands. “Hi, sweetie.” She smiled. “We’re home!” she sang. “Aren’t you happy, honey?”
Suzie blinked, then she stared quietly at something behind Rachel. Rachel turned to see what had caught her attention but saw nothing but the refrigerator.
“Are you hungry, sweet girl?”
Suzie hadn’t eaten anything for over twenty-four hours, so Rachel knew she had to be starving. But Suzie didn’t respond. She wished Suzie had a way of telling her exactly what she’d been feeling. What was hurting. Not knowing what she was experiencing was the most terrifying part.
Rachel switched off the burner. “Well, let’s get you in the bath.”
As Rachel washed Suzie with warm soapy water, she forced herself to sing their usual bath time songs, the silly ones that Suzie usually loved so much. But Suzie didn’t as much as smile. Didn’t reach for her rubber duckies. Didn’t splash around. She just stared quietly at the water pouring from the faucet, as though she was in her own little world.
She did this after the first injection but eventually snapped out of it. She’ll snap out of it this time, too.
Suzie was limp as Rachel dressed her in a pair of Disney Princess pajamas. By the time Rachel laid her back down, she was fast asleep again. Rachel pulled the Pack ’n Play next to the couch and grabbed a pillow and blanket off the bed for herself.
She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was curl up and cry herself to sleep. But she needed to find out more about the drug they had been injecting into her daughter. She opened a browser on her phone and started searching.
Two hours later, Rachel Jacobs stood at the clinic’s front desk, demanding to see Dr. Winters. She was so angry, she could barely see straight. Even though she was holding Suzie, she couldn’t stop herself from raising her voice at the receptionist.
Dr. Winters appeared, a confused look on his face. He glanced at her, then Suzie. “It’s fine, Margy,” he said to the receptionist. “I’ll take her back.”
Rachel followed him down the examination hallway to an empty room. As soon as they were inside the exam room, she started firing off questions.
“Why the hell did you tell me Respira was safe?”
Dr. Winters stared at her.
“And don’t give me this ‘because the FDA approved it’ shit. Obviously, they were wrong to approve it!” she shouted. “How the hell can you tell a parent that a medicine is safe, when even the package insert says that over seventy horrible things might go wrong? That she could even die!”
Dr. Winters threw up his hands. “Rachel, let’s try to calm down.”
“Calm down? Really? Respira gave my daughter seizures again! She could have died!”
“Ms. Jacobs, please, I know this is stressful for you. It is for all of us.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see her,” she said, wiping her nose with her forearm.
Dr. Winters reached out to place his hand on her shoulder, but she recoiled from his touch. She glared at him. “Have you ever seen a baby have seizures?”
Dr. Winters nodded. “Yes, I have. It’s terrible.”
“I want to know why you would tell me Respira didn’t cause her seizures when the manufacturer’s insert clearly says that it could,” she said. She plunged her hand in her purse and plucked out a folded piece of paper. She slammed it on the examination table and banged her hand down on it. “It says it right here. Seizures!”
“Rachel, please calm—”
“Stop saying that to me!”
Dr. Winters shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You lied to me! Right to my face! You said that the odds of something bad happening to her were one in a million! That there was a greater chance she could get struck by lightning! Where does it say any of that on this insert?” she asked, slamming her hand down again on the sheet of paper. “Do you have any idea how many parents say the same thing happened to their kids? Seizures and other horrible things? Do you even care?” Rachel asked. “If I’d known there was even a chance any of those things could have happened to her, I never would have let you give her that poison once, much less twice!”
“The package insert lists possible reactions, not likely reactions,” Dr. Winters said. “But you’re right. In Suzie’s case, I think we should discontinue the treatment.”
Rachel’s mouth fell open. “You think?” she said, mocking him.
Rachel saw the door open. Dr. Reynolds, the older doctor with the large gut, was standing in the doorway.
“I’m not saying Respira caused Suzie’s seizures,” Dr. Winters was saying, “but it’s best we eliminate it as a variable so we can get a better idea as to what’s going on with her, okay?”
“Are you kidding me?” Rachel snapped, her eyes flitting from Dr. Winters to the big doctor, back to Dr. Winters. “How much more obvious does it have to be for you guys? She gets the damn shot, then a few hours later has seizures. She gets another shot, and the exact same thing happens. Only worse! You don’t have to be a damn doctor to see a pattern here!”
“Correlation doesn’t equal causation, Ms. Jacobs,” the big doctor said.
“It also doesn’t equal coincidence! Seriously? Are you really going to stand here and tell me the drug had nothing to do with this?”
The silence in the room was earsplitting.
“The important thing is that she’s okay,” Dr. Winters said.
“That she’s okay? Look at her. She hasn’t talked or even tried to walk since the seizures yesterday. She won’t even smile. NONE of this is okay!”
Rachel looked at Suzie. She was staring into the middle dist
ance as though in some sort of daze, just as she had for hours now.
The big doctor interjected. “Ms. Jacobs, please. Raising your voice isn’t helping anyone. For your child’s sake, let’s be calm here.”
“For her sake? Or for yours? Do you not want other parents to hear me? To know what you both did to my daughter?”
“If you’re implying we harmed your daughter—”
“Oh, no. I’m not implying. I’m flat-out telling you that you did it. Dr. Winters assured me Respira was safe. Twice! And twice he lied right to my face.”
“Enough, Ms. Jacobs,” the big doctor said angrily. “Seizures like Suzie’s are common in young children.” A vein in the man’s neck throbbed. “Look, if you aren’t satisfied with the care your daughter is getting here, you are free to leave and not come back.”
An icicle of panic shot through Rachel’s heart. They wouldn’t dare leave Suzie like this. They had to fix her. It was their job. She shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am,” he said. “In fact, I’m done arguing with you. I’d like for you to leave now. And please, find another doctor for your daughter. Apparently, this practice isn’t a good fit.”
Rachel’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Teddy, can I speak to you in the hall—” Dr. Winters started.
Dr. Reynolds threw his arm out in front of him, gesturing for Dr. Winters to be quiet. Then he crossed his arms and stared at her, the corners of his mouth pulled down.
“I can’t believe this,” Rachel said.
“Goodbye, Ms. Jacobs,” the doctor said, his words even, firm.
Hatred flooded Rachel’s veins. When she spoke, her voice was laced with venom. “You’re both going to regret this.”
CHAPTER 20
DANIEL
DANIEL FOUND IT disturbing that a patient’s mother had read a package insert, yet the first time he ever had was just this week. All this time he’d simply gone by Teddy’s recommendations, a quick search on Medscape and UptoDate.com, and the sound bites the pharmaceutical representatives had given him. Maybe sometimes a quick article in a throwaway journal or newsletter or mentions at the medical conferences he attended. He’d been taught that the information he was getting from these sources was sufficient, but he’d obviously been missing important information.
As he drove home, his brain felt like it had been through a meat grinder. The fact that there hadn’t been one thing he could say to help Rachel or Suzie Jacobs made him feel impotent. Rachel had made good points. Simply assuring a parent that Respira was safe when it clearly carried the risk of causing serious injury or even death wasn’t—or shouldn’t be—enough. As a doctor, he felt he had a responsibility to possess a better understanding of Respira so that he could give parents sufficient information to make informed decisions. He had to supply his patients with all the truth, regardless of how Teddy insisted medicine be practiced at his clinic.
When he walked in the front door, the house again smelled like scented candles and a hot dinner. He was tossing his keys in the bowl by the door when Mia appeared in the foyer, looking especially sexy in a midriff-baring T-shirt and skinny jeans. She was also barefoot, the beautiful arches of her feet on full display, her perfect toes painted with lavender-colored polish. He noticed her hand was wrapped in a bandage.
“What happened to your hand?” he asked.
“It’s nothing. Just a little cut. I wasn’t paying attention and dropped a glass.”
“Want me to look at it?”
“It’s fine.” She studied his face. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look exhausted.”
“I’m fine.” But it wasn’t true. He wasn’t even close to being fine.
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth, then wrapped her arms around him. He breathed in her familiar coconut and lime scent. She hugged him tightly, then pulled away a little so she could see him. There was still concern in her eyes. “Want to talk about it?”
No, Daniel. She can’t be trusted.
He stared at her, debating.
“You look like you could use a drink,” she said.
He nodded. He needed something to help him calm down, relax.
“I just poured some wine. Chardonnay sound good?”
“Chardonnay sounds great.” He wondered again if she knew he’d been drunk last night. Probably so, considering he’d fallen asleep in his clothes. Was there anything else from last night that he should be remembering? Anything he should be embarrassed for? If there was, she wasn’t letting on. She seemed to be in as good a mood as always. And concerned.
His thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing sound.
Her phone. It was coming from the back pocket of her jeans. But she didn’t check it.
“I made you dinner,” she said, her voice soft, sweet.
“It smells fantastic.” He tried to smile, but it was beyond him.
Why isn’t she checking her phone, Daniel?
Maybe she doesn’t want to be rude. Maybe she wants to give me her undivided attention.
You’re being naive again.
Shut up.
You still didn’t finish that search on her name. Are you afraid of what you’ll find?
He’d do it later. He needed to keep his focus on Respira at the moment. If he added anything more to his plate, he might snap.
He really needed that drink.
A couple of them.
He was glad he’d come to his senses and amended his rules so that he wouldn’t have to feel guilty for breaking them again.
Three drinks maximum while out.
Three drinks at home.
He probably wouldn’t drink to his maximum. It would just give him a bit of cushion.
Mia peeled away from him and walked toward the kitchen, still ignoring her buzzing phone.
They ate at the dining table: chicken kebobs, roasted sweet potatoes and onions, and a homemade carrot cake. They both drank chardonnay with the meal (her, one glass; him, three), enough to put the voice to bed for a little while. The candles in the middle of the table threw shadows over the walls of the room and illuminated her gorgeous face.
“So . . . tell me what’s on your mind,” she said.
He considered telling her but realized he still distrusted her. Although he’d vowed to himself at least half a dozen times he was going to let go of her lie, it was much easier said than done.
Tonight was different, though. He wanted to forget about it, even if just for a little while. He needed to talk to someone about what was going on at work. Someone whose opinion he respected. He needed a confidante. Someone to bounce everything off of. Christ, he wanted so badly to talk to her about it all. He needed her companionship, her softness, her warmth. Besides, he was hardly perfect himself. He’d screwed up just last night, drinking himself into oblivion. He wanted to call it even, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to.
Quit making excuses for her. You trusted her, and she lied to you.
“You first,” he said. “Tell me about your day.”
Mia told him that she’d finally met one of their next-door neighbors, apparently a former child star from an old television show Daniel used to watch when he was in high school. She said they’d talked for a while, and he had been nice and seemed very down-to-earth. But Daniel barely heard her. His mind was already back at the office. In the examination room with Rachel and Suzie Jacobs. Teddy was standing in front of the frightened woman like a big ogre and was telling Rachel that she and her daughter were no longer welcome at the practice. Teddy’s behavior had been shocking. Daniel had never known him to act that way with a patient before.
Mia planted an elbow on the table and rested her chin on the palm of her bandaged hand. He noticed again that her nails were just nubs. She’d stopped biting her nails for a while. He couldn’t help but wonder why she’d picked up the habit again.
What is she so stressed about, Daniel?
“Okay, your turn,” she said. “Something is
definitely on your mind. Tell me about it.”
She looked legitimately concerned, genuinely loving.
It’s an act, Daniel. Don’t fall for it.
“I’m here for you. You know that, don’t you?” she asked.
He raked his hand over his mouth. Gave her a tight smile, then exhaled loudly. “There’s a lot going on at work,” he said.
She nodded and narrowed her eyes. “It’s that new drug again, isn’t it?”
He opened his mouth again, and before he knew it, the words just started spilling out. He told her about his patient, Suzie, having seizures again. About the research he’d done. Research about Respira that had blown his mind. About his argument with Teddy. About how angry Teddy had gotten. About Rachel barging into the office this afternoon, and how Teddy had kicked both her and her daughter out of the practice.
Mia sat patiently the entire time and listened. After he finished, she was quiet. He wondered if she was having cold feet about speaking freely with him, about asking questions after being snapped at the other night on the way home from dinner.
“I wanted to say more to Rachel,” he confessed. “But I couldn’t. My hands were tied. I’ve never felt like such a coward in my life. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to put my job in jeopardy. My damn job. Christ, who makes a decision based on that?”
“I’d imagine a lot of people do,” she said, reaching for his hand.
He shook his head. “Not me. I’m not built that way. I took an oath to do no harm,” he said, tears of frustration burning his eyes. The last time he’d cried was at his brother’s funeral, decades ago. “I don’t believe in this damn immunoceutical. I never did. What you said the other night was spot-on. It seems to be more of a convenience drug than anything. And it might be coming at an awfully high cost to some kids. Just the mere possibility that I could be hurting children makes me feel sick.”
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