Saving Meghan(60)

“It’s complicated,” Carl said.

“I don’t get it,” Meghan snapped at him. “I want to go home. I want to go home now!”

Levine was up in a flash, approaching with quick strides. Mendoza came over, as did Nash.

“Is everything all right?” Dr. Levine asked in that boyish, high-pitched voice of his.

“Yes,” Becky said sharply. “Meghan is just going to have some soup. Isn’t that right, honey? You’re going to relax so we can talk.”

Under the table, Becky gripped Meghan’s leg, forcing her daughter to meet her gaze. With her eyes, Becky pleaded for Meghan to calm down. She did not want to give the doctors any more ammunition, and certainly did not want Meghan dragged away to have Lord knew what done to her. What are those pinpricks in her arm anyway? Becky had planned to confront Mendoza and Levine about Meghan’s treatment, but not now. She bristled at the thought of losing even a minute with her daughter. They were only giving her an hour as it was.

Meghan picked up on her mother’s cues and managed to regain her composure. She sipped the soup, which seemed to soothe her.

“We have help coming our way,” Becky said after Levine and the others moved away to let them talk privately, but still remained in the room.

“Help how?” Meghan said, her lower lip quavering. “I don’t belong here. I should be home with you. They stick me with needles.” Meghan showed her mother her marked-up arm.

“What are they putting in you?” Becky asked. “Carl, what the fuck are they doing to her here?”

Carl seemed horrified. Finally, a reaction from him. He bolted from his chair, stormed over to Dr. Nash, and gruffly pulled her aside. He spoke to her close enough to whisper in her ear. He returned to the table, glowering. “I’m going to speak with Dr. Nash in private,” he said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Meghan watched Carl and Nash depart Charlotte’s Web for the hallway beyond.

“It’s so weird how they name these rooms after children’s books,” Becky said, turning her attention back to Meghan, wanting to change the subject until Carl returned with more information. “Why ruin my memory of them? I used to read that book to you when you were little. You loved it so much.”

“Well, I don’t have any friends here; no spiders looking out for me,” Meghan said, offering Becky a little flash of the spirited girl she loved and treasured.

“What’s it like here?”

Meghan fell quiet. Then she said, “I haven’t had much interaction with the other—what are we? Patients? Prisoners? But I’m guessing they’re all crazy because this is a locked floor, after all. Did you know that? Like, I can’t just walk out the door.”

“How do you spend the day? What have you been doing to keep your mind off things?”

A thoughtful look came over Meghan’s face. “Everything here happens like clockwork,” she said. “I have room checks every fifteen minutes.”

“What for?” Becky asked.

“To make sure I’m breathing. And I get off easy. The suicidal kids get checked every five minutes.”

Becky had noticed a big chart out front near the nurse’s station and realized it was a running record of each room check.

“Most of the time it’s like I’m living in a dream,” Meghan continued. “I’m fuzzy and tired all the time.”

Becky looked again at her daughter’s arm. Were they keeping her sedated? Maybe Carl would have some answers when he came back.

“When can I get out of here?” Meghan asked again.

“There’s a woman, a special investigator the judge has appointed, who’s going to help make that happen. Her name is Kelly London. Your father and I are scheduled to meet with her very soon. She’s going to help us prove that you have mitochondrial disease, and then the judge will let you come home with us.”

“Why can’t I go home now?” Meghan’s watery eyes were pleading.

Even though there was hope Kelly London could rule in their favor, Becky decided now was not the time to reveal the outcome of the seventy-two-hour hearing. Meghan had found her appetite at last, and Becky worried she’d stop her daughter from eating.

The truth would be much harder to swallow. According to Attorney Leers, they may have lost the hearing, but they’d won a decisive part of the ongoing battle. Not every case gets appointed a court investigator, and Kelly London’s impartial opinion would go a long way to swaying the judge’s decision. There was a chance they’d get Meghan home before the next hearing on the merits of the petition, which could be some months away, but a lot depended on what the investigator had to say.

“It’s a process, sweetheart,” Becky said, reaching across the table to stroke her daughter’s hand, hating how dry her skin felt. “Are you showering, baby?” she asked.

“No. I’ve refused to take one until they give me a shower curtain,” Meghan said with disgust. “What do they think? I’m going to hang myself?”

Becky forced the gruesome image from her mind.

“I do,” Meghan said. “Because I’m getting out of here.” Her eyes narrowed into a determined expression.

“In time, yes, you are,” Becky said.

“That’s not what I mean,” Meghan said with conviction. “Who is this Kelly London person again?”