Melt (Steel Brothers Saga #4)(50)

I nodded. What could I say?

“He wants to see your file on his daughter, Melanie.”

“The file is in storage,” I said.

“I understand that.”

“And you probably also understand that my psychotherapy notes are protected under HIPAA.”

“I do. But it might serve your interests best to release the file.”

I widened my eyes into circles. “Did I hear you right? You want me to disregard the law that protects my patients?”

“Melanie, the patient in question is dead.”

“You know the law as well as I do. If he wants to see the file, he needs to go to court, be appointed as the personal representative of his daughter’s estate, and then he can demand access to the file. Not before.”

“Yes, I know that. But why not show him? Right now, I need to think of my patient, and her husband is driving her slowly crazy.”

“I sympathize with you, Miles,” I said, “but I have to think of my patient and her rights too.”

“May I remind you again, Melanie, that your patient is dead?”

“No, you don’t need to remind me of that.” I stood, anger getting the best of me. “Don’t you know that I think of that girl every day of my life? That I question myself? That I wonder what there was that I didn’t see? She haunts me every night, Miles. I did what I thought was best at the time, and I had an attorney and Shelley Barrett, who you yourself have said is one of the best therapists in business today, review my file after Gina’s suicide. They both concluded there was nothing in the notes to indicate Gina was suicidal. I believe we’re done here.”

“Sit down, Melanie.”

“I will not. I have nothing more to say on this matter.”

“You may not, but I have more to say. Now please, sit.”

“I think I’ll remain standing. Have your say, Miles.”

“This man is wreaking havoc in the hospital,” Miles said. “Please understand my position. As a friend and colleague, I’m asking for your cooperation.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Then I have no choice but to ask you to take a leave of absence from your practice.”

I whipped my neck around. “A leave of absence? On what basis?”

“Pending investigation of the medical review board. Rodney Cates filed a complaint against you early this morning.”

I froze, my blood frosting in my veins. “I know my rights. I am able to keep practicing medicine until the medical board tells me I can’t.”

“You know the procedures as well as I do. Don’t make me suspend your privileges at this hospital.”

“Do you hear yourself, Miles? My patients need me. This isn’t right, and you know it.”

“This is a temporary situation.”

“You have no cause to ask this of me. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Believe me, Melanie. It’s for your own good.”

“So is this the kind of man you are, Miles? Things get a little tough for you, and you roll over and play dead? What are you afraid of? That if you don’t kowtow to Cates, he’ll file a complaint against you?”

Miles reddened. Yes, I’d hit that nail right on the head.

I clenched my hands into fists. “I see how it is. Fine. I’ll close up my practice for a few weeks until you’re confident this has blown over. I’ll let my patients down. But I won’t forget this, Miles.” I stormed out of the conference room.

The walk back to my office took place in a blur. I was livid. When I reached the fourth floor, I tromped into the office.

“Randi? Take the next three weeks off.”

“Excuse me?” Her blond head popped up from her computer.

“You heard me. It seems the universe has decided I need to take a break for a few weeks. I need you to cancel all my appointments for the next three weeks. Don’t reschedule anything. We’ll call them all when I get back to the office.”

“But Dr. Carmichael, this isn’t like you—”

“Trust me, it wasn’t my idea.”

She paled. “All right. I’ll call everyone. What about this afternoon’s appointments?”

“Cancel them as well.” I stepped into my office and shut the door behind me.

What the hell? I hadn’t had a vacation in years. I had plenty of money saved up. Why not take a trip? I could use the time to finish writing my book about—

I let out a laugh—but not a laugh because anything was funny. A laugh from the sheer absurdity of it all. My work in progress was a book on preventing suicide in teens.

I hadn’t worked on it since Gina’s death. Though Gina hadn’t been a teen, she was still quite young. I had become numb. I hadn’t been able to touch my research and writing since then. I’d forced myself to continue working, but only because my current patients needed me.

And then Talon Steel had walked into my office and fainted dead away after our first session.

I’d found a new purpose in Talon. He had made such amazing progress in such a short time. Even though I had failed Gina, I began to think I still had something to offer, that I could still help people who had a dire need, who had been to hell and had come back kicking.

And even though the guilt from Gina’s death had never left me, working with Talon had lifted me out of the depths of sorrow, had given me a new aspiration.