Saving Meghan(40)

Dr. Levine shuffled nervously on his feet, but since there was nowhere for him to sit and nowhere else to go, he took over the spot on the wall that the security guards had abandoned to keep Carl in line.

“We have an obligation to all our patients to do no harm, and that includes making sure nobody is doing any harm to a child,” Singer said.

“Are you suggesting that we’re abusing our daughter?” Becky was beside herself with anger, though her expression showed only stunned disbelief.

“We have evidence to support that very possibility,” Ms. Hope said, speaking for the first time. “A hospital has a legal responsibility to intervene in these matters. Dr. Nash felt strongly enough about her suspicions to order the psychiatric evaluation, which Dr. Levine performed.” Ms. Hope nodded toward the rube doc perched against the wall.

“Dr. Levine interviewed Meghan about her experiences,” she continued, “and based on her answers to a series of questions, he became very concerned. Given Meghan’s lengthy medical history with puzzling symptoms and an endless stream of consults and treatments, all to no avail, there was reasonable cause for the hospital to file a complaint of medical child abuse with my group, the Massachusetts Department of Children and Families. My team acts quickly in these matters, since there’s the possibility a child could be returned to a dangerous situation.”

“We discussed your case in depth and reviewed all the evidence as provided to us by Drs. Nash and Levine,” Knox Singer added, as if that made everything all right.

“Could I see that evidence?” Carl said, speaking through gritted teeth.

“I’m afraid not,” Ms. Hope answered. “It’s privileged.”

Becky scoffed incredulously. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” She looked around the room as if everyone should be sharing her outrage. She looked to Carl, and then to Ms. Hope. “She’s our daughter!” Becky shouted, pointing at herself. “Ours! You can’t just take her without showing us this irrefutable proof of yours.”

“At the moment, Mrs. Gerard,” Ms. Hope said calmly, “as a consequence of the complaint, a judge has awarded temporary custody of Meghan to the Department of Children and Families.”

“But how?” Becky asked, letting the disbelief ring her voice. “And when? She’s been here only a few hours.”

“In cases of suspected child abuse, the system has measures for expediting an emergency temporary ruling. We, in turn, have given our permission for Meghan to remain in the care of Dr. Nash and Dr. Levine here at White. Your daughter is now officially a ward of the state, so in legal terms, she’s no longer yours to care for.”





CHAPTER 19


Becky wanted to stand up, scream, and throw her chair at Ms. Hope, then pick it up and use it to beat Dr. Nash.

A ward of the state—that made her daughter sound like an orphan. In the eyes of the court, Becky was technically no longer a mother. But emotionally, spiritually, in all the ways that truly mattered, she had never felt more like a mother in all her life.

Fixing a pointed stare on Nash, Becky’s eyes grew wide as she rose to her feet. “You tricked us! You tricked us!”

Her vision went black with anger. Separated from her body, her thoughts and actions no longer belonging to her, Becky lunged across the table at Nash. Before she could latch on to the lapels of her lab coat, one of the guards seized a clump of Becky’s light knit sweater in his meaty mitt, hard enough to rip a small hole in the delicate thread as he pulled her back.

Carl went on the attack. He grabbed the guard’s button-down shirt in his clenched fists, his face snarled with outrage. With a loud grunt, he gave a hard shove that sent the guard backward into the wall. The other guard, who had four inches and a good thirty pounds on his opponent, used a bear hug to pin Carl’s arms to his sides.

Carl twisted and turned to free himself. Unsuccessful, he jumped up at the same time he snapped his head backward like a whip. His skull landed a perfect strike against the guard’s bulbous nose. There was a sickening crunch and throaty noise, followed by a cry equal parts surprise and anguish. A gush of blood raced out of the guard’s nostrils in alarming rivers of red as he spun Carl around to face him. He then uncorked a vicious jab to the midsection that doubled Carl over in pain.

Becky went after her husband’s assailant while everyone else moved away. But before she could engage, the other guard clamped his big arms around her.

Becky tried to brake with her heels as he dragged her toward the door. “Why are you doing this to us?” she screamed.

Using the guard’s back for leverage, Becky lifted herself high enough off the ground to kick at the one threatening Carl, but her feet bicycled harmlessly nowhere near her target.

“Stop it! Stop right now!” Knox Singer’s booming voice brought a halt to the chaos like an irate parent putting an end to a sibling quarrel.

Becky’s body went slack as the fight left her. Carl rose shakily to his feet, came to Becky’s side, and pulled her into an embrace. The guard with the injured nose, his white shirt soiled like a Rorschach test, fished a cloth handkerchief from his pants pocket, which he then used to stanch the flow of blood. Becky pressed herself against Carl’s heaving chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Dr. Nash approached the injured guard. She tilted his head back and examined his bloodied nose, but did not appear overly concerned.