Saving Meghan(84)

“I have letters from Dr. Nash and Ms. Annabel Hope from DCF substantiating their positions. They’ll be happy to come to court and testify under oath if that’s what’s required.”

Ms. Haze unclasped her brief to produce the letters from a file folder and handed copies to the judge, who read them in silence.

“Well, Ms. London?” Trainer asked as she set the letters on her desk. “You’re the court investigator on this case. Have you had a chance to delve into this issue?”

“I have, Your Honor,” Kelly said.

“And?”

Becky’s thoughts flickered. She prayed Kelly’s support would be enough to sway Judge Trainer’s opinion over that of Nash and DCF.

“On this issue, I agree with the Department of Children and Families,” Kelly said. “A second biopsy is unnecessary and potentially damaging to Meghan’s mental health.”

Becky’s jaw dropped. “What?” she cried out, staring dumbfounded at Kelly.

“Very well, then. Since Meghan’s in DCF’s care, I don’t believe that there is anything the court needs to do. Thank you for your time.”

“No,” Becky said, rising to her feet. “That’s not what we discussed. That’s not what we agreed to.”

Kelly London rose quickly and headed for the door before Becky could stop her.

“Is everything all right, Ms. Gerard?” Judge Trainer asked. “You’ve gone pale.”

Becky did feel faint, rattled and torn apart.

“No, no, it’s not all right,” Becky blurted out, repeating the only thing she could think: “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“What who agreed to?” Judge Trainer asked, confused.

Becky gave a moment’s thought to chasing after Kelly, but a voice in her head told her it would be wasted effort. The same voice also told her who was behind Kelly’s stunning turnabout.

Becky stormed over to Carl, her eyes ablaze. “How much, you son of a bitch?” she snarled.

Judge Trainer came out from behind her desk. “Mrs. Gerard, you must restrain yourself.” As if on cue, the court officer took one threatening step forward. “Now, I understand this is emotional, but please refrain from any outbursts while in my personal chambers.”

Becky centered herself. She eyed Carl like a prizefighter intimidating an opponent. “How much did you pay her?” she asked in a far softer tone.

“Becky, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carl said.

But he knew. She could see it in his eyes. She’d accused him of other things in the past, which he’d denied with all his heart. She didn’t believe him then either.

“How could you?” Becky asked him while Erin Haze looked on with alarm. “How could you do that to your own daughter?”

“Becky … I don’t—”

“Spare me,” Becky said with disgust. She turned quickly and fled the room. It was obvious what she had to do now. It was not her fault. She had to see Meghan. They had much to plan.

They’d left her no choice.





CHAPTER 39





MEGHAN


I woke up at six thirty. I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours. My mind did somersaults all night. Would it work? Could it work? My stomach cramped with worry. I thought about how many ways my mom’s plan could go wrong, and what would happen if we got caught. What would they do with me? They’d bring me back here, that’s what. Nothing would change, except my mom would never be allowed to see me again. Nothing would change, except the judge would rule that I couldn’t be my mom’s daughter anymore. Nothing would change, except that I’d lose my family because there was no way I was ever going to live with my father.

Not after what he’d done.

So what were we risking? Everything.

I dreamt about Dr. Levine in the little bit of sleep I got. He stood outside Charlotte’s Web, staring at me, blame in his eyes. I’m ashamed to admit that I’d wished him dead plenty of times. Maybe wishes really did come true. But the last thing I needed was more guilt to lug around. I felt guilty for being sick, for making my mom suffer, for freaking out about needles. I felt guilty for being alive. But I felt only partially guilty for breaking up my parents’ marriage. Someone else owned a big chunk of that blame.

Someone named Angi.

The day had started like all the others. Breakfast at eight. Group at nine. Individual therapy at ten. It was getting close to lunchtime. Almost noon. If Mom’s plan worked, it would be the last lunch I’d have here.

Thank God for that.

Maybe this place was good for some people, but not for me. I wasn’t crazy when they locked me up here, but I sure as shit was going to go nuts if I stayed much longer. That’s why I agreed to the plan. Mom and I went over it yesterday when she came to visit, but that wasn’t the only thing we talked about.

I couldn’t believe it when she told me she was leaving Dad. I cried. I’m not sure why. He doesn’t deserve her. But I know what he does deserve. Soon as I’m out of here, I’m going to tell Mom all about him. At least I can get one secret off my chest.

I heard all about the meeting with Kelly London and Judge Trainer, so I guess the battle lines have been drawn. It was Mom, Dr. Fisher, and me on one side, and my dad, Dr. Nash, and DCF on the other. They don’t believe that I’m dying. They think I faked it every time I got sick in here—faked the stomach cramps, the blurred vision, the intense pain. But it’s not just the sudden attacks that are killing me. Something is picking away at me bit by bit, going at me slowly, methodically. My little vampire, whatever it is, is living off me, and nobody can see it happening. That’s why I have to go along with Mom’s crazy idea. It’s the only real option we have.