Unravel(81)

“About what?” I fire back.

“I’m not your patient, Dr. Rutledge. There is no need to talk to me like one.”

“But she’s no longer your patient.”

“I understand that. But I felt her parents had a right to know what’s going on,” he says with a sharp edge to his voice.

“Absolutely. But if they wanted to know her progress they could call and talk to me. I would’ve gladly updated them on everything.” I looked him in the eye. “You’re not her doctor. It wasn’t your place.”

Tim gives me a hard look. “I spoke with them because, quite honestly, you’re too close to Naomi.”

“Excuse me?” I say very slowly.

“You seem to have a gray area with her. You are entirely too involved. You—”

“I know what you mean,” I say impatiently. “Don’t diagnose me.”

“Perhaps someone should, though. It’s very simple: You never become attached to your patients. You’re supposed to be the doctor in this situation, but you ignored that. You felt for this girl and cared for her when all you have to do is treat her and let her be on her way.”

When I leave at the end of the day, I make sure to leave my work in my office. But Naomi’s voice echoes in my head all the way home. Her face flashes through my mind as I eat dinner and get ready for bed. When I’m lying in bed, I see her file with her name printed in the right hand corner in clear, black letters on my ceiling.

Those letters start to mesh together and I lay there, hoping that they’ll stop moving and reveal the answer to Naomi’s problem.

Clearly that’s just me, though. Tim Woods has no such problem. He sits here with such ease, handing out biting insults like it’s candy.

“I’m trying to be good doctor to her,” I say.

“What about her ‘weekend pass’ last weekend? Were you being a good doctor then?”

I sit up straighter in my chair. “What?”

“Why weren’t her parents notified?”

“Is this why she was released, because I gave her a small break?”

“Naomi is not allowed to take a weekend pass. She can’t sign in and out of Fairfax. That decision isn’t hers to make. Yet you allowed her to sign herself out and Lachlan Halstead to pick her up.”

“She’s a patient. Not a prisoner.”

Dr. Woods’ lips are in a thin line. His disapproval is apparent. I suppose I broke some moral code for doctors by hiding the weekend pass from her parents. They put her in our care, but were supposed to be notified if she was leaving Fairfax. No matter how short the time was. But I can’t feel guilt over what I did. I know it was the right thing. Naomi came back from her weekend pass with a bright light in her eye. She was recharged. It was a boost that she needed.

“How did her parents even find out?” I ask suspiciously. “Wait,” I hold up a hand, “let me guess. You told them?”

Tim says nothing. In fact, the longer we talk, the more uncomfortable he becomes: shifting in his seat, adjusting his glasses every few seconds, clearing his throat like he’s trying to get something out. My eyes narrow on him.

“What do you know that I don’t?” I ask quietly.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice stiff and cold.

Liar, I think.

“Come on,” I coax. “Tell me the truth. Tell me why you accuse me of being too close to my patient, yet you take it upon yourself to call her parents and update them on everything that I’m doing. Again, this is with my patient.”

“You’re forgetting that she was my patient before you.”

I give him a hard look. “Outside of Fairfax, do you know her family?”

He answers way too quickly. “No!”

“Liar.” This time I say my thoughts out loud.

We look at each other for a moment. I have no intent of backing down. He came into my office. He told me she was leaving. He needs to explain it all to me.

Tim exhales loudly and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Naomi’s parents are… close friends of mine. Her dad expressed concern over Naomi’s behavior. I encouraged him to seek involuntary commitment so she could be admitted here. The plan was for her to stay here for just a few months to give Naomi a chance at getting better.”

I sit back heavily in my chair, feeling like I was just kicked in the stomach.

“So you did a,” I make quotation marks, “favor for them.”

“You could call it that,” he says carefully.

“And her parents were just buying time so they could figure out what they could do with her. Am I right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t have to say that. I’m not an idiot, Tim. Her parents never come to visit her. Not once. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to her parents before.”

“Hold your judgment,” Tim says sharply.

“Can you blame me for judging? This is their daughter.” I can’t hide the disdain from my voice. “So you pulled some strings to get her in here. Did you do the same to get her released?”

“Of course not!”

“Of course not,” I repeat slowly. “Never mind the fact that Naomi’s mom signed her into Fairfax, giving us consent to care for her daughter! And then she magically shows up and signs her daughter out because she feels like it!”