Saving Meghan(61)

“She’s the special investigator the court appointed. You see, we wanted you to come home with us, and we went to court to make that happen, but the doctors and the judge want to give it some more time.”

“Here? In a mental hospital? Are they nuts? Or am I?” Meghan almost cracked a smile.

“Nobody is crazy, sweetie. We all just want what’s best for you.”

Meghan looked deep into her mother’s eyes. “You’re as bad at lying as I am, Mom,” she said.

“I promise you—we’re going to get you home.” Becky felt herself cracking under the strain. She was trying so hard, so very hard to hold it together for the sake of her child.

“It’s you, isn’t it, Mom,” Meghan said softly, breaking eye contact. “Dr. Levine keeps asking me about you. They think you’re doing something to me. Is that it?”

“Baby, no. No.”

“Don’t lie to me, please.”

Becky almost caved. “It’s not true.”

Meghan looked ready to say something but stopped herself. “Dr. Levine asked if I thought you needed me to be sick, Mom. What’s that all about? Why would he even ask that?”

“I don’t know, honey. I don’t. But … but”—Becky wondered how much to share, and decided to take at least one step over the line—“but if you are sick, I mean really sick, you can get out of here.”

Meghan looked confused, even a bit disoriented. “So you want me to be sick?”

“No, no,” Becky said, maybe so quickly that it sounded defensive. “It’s just that if you are sick, with something the doctors can diagnose, then we’ll be able to bring you home. Dr. Fisher is going to help us with that.”

“Figure out if I’m sick?”

“Yes,” Becky said. “That’s all we have to do. You just have to be patient, okay, baby. Just be a little more patient.”

And be sick, thought Becky.

They spent a few minutes talking about life at the hospital, routines and such, when Meghan clutched her stomach. She bent over in extreme pain and groaned as her pale lips pulled tight across her mouth. When a second rush of agony hit her, all color drained from her face. Meghan’s eyes began to water. She blinked rapidly, similar to the way she had done the night she’d stumbled into Becky’s home office complaining of severe stomach cramps.

“Meghan, honey, are you all right?”

“I don’t feel so good,” Meghan wheezed as she clutched her stomach again. Meghan pushed her chair back and tried to get up. Carl and Nash came into the room just as Meghan struggled to her feet. She managed to stand, albeit shakily, until her legs buckled beneath her.

Becky rose out of her chair in a flash, knowing she was too far away to catch her in time. But Carl was there, and he grabbed Meghan by the shoulders a second before she hit the ground hard.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Carl laid his daughter gently on the floor.

Nash came over, showing deep concern. With her stethoscope, she listened to Meghan’s heart and checked her pulse with her fingers. “Her heartbeat and pulse are normal,” she said, sounding a bit confused, perhaps because Meghan’s sudden symptoms were so severe.

Meghan kept holding her stomach, groaning.

“Did you do something to her?” Carl asked Becky. His voice turned threatening.

“Me?” Becky said while she knelt at her daughter’s side. “How dare you. Please, she’s sick, can’t you see?”

Soon they were surrounded: Nash, Levine, Annabel Hope, Jill Mendoza, all of them crowded over Meghan.

“Everyone give us some space,” Nash ordered.

They all took two giant steps back. Meghan made another plaintive, pained sound.

“Let’s get her to her room,” Nash said. “I’ll examine her there.”

Meghan moaned even louder as Nash and Levine pulled her to her feet.

Becky grabbed Dr. Levine by the shoulder. “This is your fault,” she said, her teeth bared like fangs. “You did this to her. You put her here. You made this happen, you son of a bitch. I warned you what would happen. I warned you.”

Levine’s eyes were wide, uncomprehending as he moved away from Becky. With Nash’s help, they dragged Meghan toward the door.

Becky went to follow, but Jill Mendoza got in her way.

“It’s best that you leave Meghan to the care of her doctors,” she said.

Becky pushed past Mendoza, shoving the much heavier woman aside like she was not even there. Carl fell into step behind, but as Becky reached the door, a large man with a thin mustache appeared to block her way.

“Let me out of here,” Becky said to him in a growling voice. “I need to be with my daughter.”

Jill Mendoza approached from behind. “I’m afraid I need you both to leave the premises now,” Mendoza said sternly. “Whatever happened here has upset Meghan. I promise there will be another opportunity to visit.”

Annabel Hope was off in the background, looking on with a grim expression. Dr. Levine had left in a rush to help Dr. Nash triage Meghan.

“Another opportunity?” Becky said, whirling around to glare at Jill Mendoza with disgust. “She’s my daughter! She’s sick! I want to see her now! Right now!”

“I’m afraid you don’t have that authority.”