The Complication (The Program #6)(53)

I’m about to shout, scream, when Dr. McKee sucks in a wispy breath of air, seeming to choke on it, before taking another. His eyes widen, and he quickly bangs once on his chest, hard enough to make it echo in the room. I take a startled step back, knocking into the chair and sending it to the floor with a loud thud.

He gasps again. “Marie,” he chokes out.

I look around the room and remember that she left. The doctor’s face is growing red on his cheeks, blue near his lips.

“Marie!” I scream, and it’s only a second before she rushes into the room.

I turn back to Dr. McKee, and his expression is twisted in pain. He reaches his arm out to Marie. Before she gets to him, he falls forward, and I do my best to catch him, stumbling back. Marie grabs on to him and carefully lowers him to the floor.

“Call 911,” Marie says to me calmly as she brushes the doctor’s hair off his forehead.

I take out my phone and dial, holding it to my ear as I watch them. Marie looks down at Dr. McKee.

“Stay calm,” she tells him soothingly.

Dr. McKee wraps his hands in her coat, his face pleading. “You have to call my daughter,” he begs. “You have to call Nicole.”

Marie stares at him, her dark eyes filling with tears. “You know I can’t do that, Tom,” she whispers back miserably. They hold each other’s gaze—a million words passing between them without a single one being uttered.

Dr. McKee’s hands slip from Marie’s coat, but she quickly catches his grip, her hand tightly around his. A tear drips onto her cheek and runs through her makeup.

Doctor McKee’s face has gone ashen, his glasses askew. His lips are bluish as he winces in pain again, his other fist clutching his chest. The 911 operator comes on, and I tell her we need an ambulance. She gets the address and tells me one is on the way. I put my phone away just as the door opens, and Nathan and Melody come rushing in.

Melody gasps and watches in horror, and Nathan comes to stand next to me, wrapping his arm over my shoulders—holding me steady.

Marie doesn’t let go of Dr. McKee’s hand; they watch each other. It’s a moment so full of secrets that I feel like I’m intruding. I open my mouth to ask if he’ll be all right, when Dr. McKee’s eyes roll back, his face scrunches up, and he chokes out a gurgling sound.

“Hold on, Tom,” Marie murmurs, although she doesn’t seem to believe it will do any good. She brings his knuckles to her mouth and presses them against her lips, her eyes squeezed shut as the tears flow freely now.

Dr. McKee fights to look at her, his eyelids fluttering. His face clears for a moment, and he smiles sadly at her.

“Tell her that I loved her more than anything,” he whispers, his face wet with tears. “Tell her that I’m sorry.”

Marie moans out what sounds like “I can’t,” and I don’t understand why she won’t just placate him. Lie to him to give him peace. But that must not be the sort of relationship they have. Painfully honest even until the last second. Even as they lie to everyone around them. I don’t know what it would be like to have someone be so truthful with me. Does anyone know that kind of loyalty?

Dr. McKee blinks slowly, his body relaxing back. “We could have done anything, Dr. Devoroux,” he murmurs. “Together, we could have saved the whole damn world.”

She laughs and uses her free hand to wipe the tears off his cheek. “I still will,” she says. “I’ll do it for her.”

Dr. McKee’s face breaks a little at the mention of “her,” but he nods as if that’s all he wants. Her.

And then Dr. Tom McKee closes his eyes and dies quietly in the back room of the Adjustment office.





CHAPTER NINE


I FOLLOW THE AMBULANCE TO the hospital—I’m not even sure why. I guess I feel responsible, even though Dr. McKee’s heart attack wasn’t my fault. Nathan left with Melody. He wasn’t happy about it, but she begged to talk to him. He told me he’d find me later and that I should be careful. I’m not sure what could happen in the hospital, but who knows anymore. Like Dr. McKee said, The Program never left. We were never safe.

Dr. McKee didn’t regain consciousness, and although they tried to revive him at the Adjustment office, they couldn’t. Marie didn’t look at me once while the EMTs were working on him, not even when I asked if she was okay. She was lost in her head, and it makes me wonder about her and Dr. McKee’s relationship. It didn’t seem romantic—more like . . . family. A closeness that could only come from unabashed loyalty and care. It makes me suddenly sorry for her. She’ll be all alone now.

I text my grandparents to let them know what happened with Dr. McKee, but I don’t mention what he told me yet. His explanation doesn’t quite make sense in my head.

Something feels off. Wrong.

I need to talk to Marie for clarification, but now isn’t the time. I’ll let her grieve. I understand how controlling grief can be, and unlike her and Dr. McKee, I won’t take advantage of that pain.

As I sit in the hospital waiting room, I’m reminded of the other times I’ve sat here, worried about Wes. I was hoping I’d never have to be in this hospital again, and yet here I am.

The sliding doors open, and I’m relieved to see Nathan walk in. He looks awful, drawn and tired. He drops down into the chair next to me. When he turns to me, my soul aches. Nathan with a broken heart is too much for me to take. I reach for him and pull him into a hug, and it nearly kills me as he silently cries into my shoulder.