An Anonymous Girl(109)

This is exactly how she did it to April, I think as I drop my head into my hands and feel my shoulders shake. She coaxed out April’s secrets and used them like knives against her. She made April feel completely hopeless, as though everything she loved had been taken away. As though life was no longer worth living. Then she gave her the pills.

Dr. Shields believes she has stripped away everything from me, too: My job. Noah. My freedom. My family.

She’s giving me the night alone because she wants me to follow April’s path.

I wait a bit longer.

Then I lift my head.

Nothing in the room has changed: Dr. Shields stands by the piano, Thomas hovers behind the chair opposite me, and the platter of food rests on the table.

I look at Dr. Shields.

“Okay,” I say, making sure my voice sounds meek. “But before I go, can I ask you a question?”

She nods.

“Is it ethical for a psychiatrist to dispense Vicodin to a client without giving her a prescription?” I ask.

Dr. Shields smiles. I know she’s thinking about the pill she gave me.

“If a friend is going through a difficult time, it isn’t unheard of to offer a single dose,” she says. “Of course, I would never officially condone it.”

I lean back and cross my legs. Thomas is staring at me quizzically, probably wondering why I seem so composed all of a sudden.

“Yes, well, you gave Subject 5 far more than a single dose,” I say, locking eyes with her. “You gave April enough to kill her.”

Thomas inhales sharply. He moves another step closer to me; he’s still trying to protect me.

Dr. Shields is frozen; she doesn’t even appear to be breathing. But I can sense her brain whirling, composing a new narrative to offset my accusation.

Finally, she walks across the room to take the chair opposite mine.

“Jessica, I have no idea what you are talking about,” she says. “You think I wrote April a prescription for Vicodin?”

“You’re a psychiatrist—you’re allowed to prescribe medicine,” I challenge.

“True, but there would be a record if I ever wrote her a prescription,” she says, spreading out her hands. “And I didn’t.”

“I can ask Mrs. Voss,” I say.

“Go right ahead,” Dr. Shields responds.

“I know you gave her the pills,” I say. But I’m losing ground; she’s blocking everything I throw at her.

Thomas reaches up and touches his left shoulder. The gesture appears reflexive.

“How could I give Vicodin to someone else, when I’ve never even taken it myself?” Dr. Shields asks in a reasonable tone, the one that tried to convince me she hadn’t gotten to Noah or made me lose my job.

My watch is recording everything, but Dr. Shields hasn’t incriminated herself. Worse, I’ve enraged her. I can see it in the glint in her narrowed eyes; I can hear it in her steely tone.

I’m losing.

“You’ve never taken it,” Thomas says. He’s speaking in an odd-sounding monotone.

We both turn to look at him. His hand is still on his left shoulder—the one with the recent scar from his rotator cuff surgery. “But I have.”

The slight smile drops from her face.

“Thomas,” Dr. Shields whispers.

“I didn’t need more than a few,” he says slowly. “But I never threw out the rest of the bottle. April was in this house the night she died, Lydia. You told me she came to see you and that she was upset. Did you give her my old pills?”

He turns, as if he is going upstairs to check.

“Wait,” Dr. Shields says.

She remains perfectly still for a moment, then her face crumbles. “I did it for you!” she cries.

Thomas staggers, then collapses onto the love seat. “You killed her? Because I slept with her?”

“Thomas, I didn’t do anything wrong. April made her own choice to swallow those pills!”

“Is it murder if you only provide the weapon?” I ask.

They both whip around to face me. For once, Dr. Shields doesn’t have a response.

“But you did more than that,” I continue. “What did you say to April to drive her to the edge? You must have known she was suicidal in high school.”

“What did you say to her?” Thomas echoes hoarsely.

“I told her that my husband had a one-night stand and he regretted it!” The words burst out of Dr. Shields in a torrent. “I said he called her a nothing. He said it was the biggest mistake of his life and he would give anything to undo it.”

Thomas shakes his head, looking dazed.

“Don’t you see?” Dr. Shields pleads. “She was such a foolish girl! She would have told somebody about you!”

“You knew how fragile she was,” Thomas says. “How could you?”

Dr. shields’s face tightens. “She was disposable. Even her own father didn’t want to be around her.” Dr. Shields reaches out for Thomas, but he roughly pulls his hand away. “We can say April took those pills from our medicine cabinet; we knew nothing about it.”

“I don’t think the police will see it that way,” I say.

Dr. Shields doesn’t even look at me; she’s staring at Thomas beseechingly.