Chapter 12
Raine had always considered herself a tough person. Hell, at age eighteen she had lost both her parents in the 911 bombing in New York City at a charity event the three of them had attended together. As part of that tragic loss, she suffered and survived, years of post-traumatic survivors’ guilt, while raising her teenage sister diagnosed with a terminal heart disease just a year before the death of her parents. That to her, was the definition of mental toughness. She was brilliant at compartmentalizing and rationalizing anything that came her way. But she feared this time her guilt was slowly eating her alive from the inside. She could not think straight, convinced someone was out to get her.
Having money should make life more bearable, at times this made caring for Willow a lot easier than for most people in their position, but that didn’t make the trauma and struggle associated with such an illness any easier on them. But given her recent choices, she was starting to see what having money can make a person become.
As her heels clicked on shiny white vinyl floors on the way to Willow’s hospital room, the conversation between her and Doctor Vermaak had the potential to bring her to her knees. Did she really think after the transplant that everything would magically transform into the life she wanted for them? That it would erase all the bad choices?
Standing before her sister’s room, she wondered if now was the right time to tell Willow about the therapist? It could lead to questions that she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer. She’d always been a bad liar. The less Willow knew about her transplant, the better. When she pushed the door open, she saw Nurse Benson standing off to one side and a man in a cheap dark gray suite standing beside her, taking notes. She could practically smell the fake Hugo Boss from the door. Raine’s face flushed as all sorts of thoughts entered her mind. The nurse caught her eye and shifted in such a way that led the man to adjust his position so that his back was to the door and Raine remained unnoticed. She took the opportunity to stand by the door and listen in.
His voice carried well in the room where she heard him ask, “So the patient has been in this ward for exactly three weeks, you say?”
Nurse Benson stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze intent on his face as to keep him engaged. She nodded, “That is what I said, and her account should verify that.”
She heard the faint sound of pen over paper as he wrote something down. “Do you know anything about her parents?” he asked.
“Nothing. I haven’t seen her parents.” Bertha’s tone was clipped.
“Nurse Benson,” the man said sternly, “your answers aren’t giving me much to go on. I’m currently asked to consider that this girl is an orphan, holding a South African medical aid policy, and has received a transplant from an anonymous donor. Something isn’t right here. There should be records as to who the donor is, should something go awry…”
Nurse Benson took offence immediately. “Detective take what you must from this. How would I know the answers to such questions? I’ve told you everything I know.”
The sound of his jacket ruffling as he placed his notebook back in his top pocket alerted Raine that he was nearly done with his interrogation. As he spoke again, he started to turn toward the door and Raine slipped out of sight, careful to keep the door open just enough to be able to hear.
“Well then,” he said. “I now totally understand why our medical system is in crisis. If anyone can just waltz in here and get a much-needed transplant, then…”
“Look, officer,” Bertha started to usher him out the door, “my job is to care of the sick, I have made an oath, and so has everyone in this field. The health, regardless of the person receiving it, is our number one priority. Get a warrant if you need any further information. You can take the matter up further with our hospital director.”
There was a thick, palpable silence in the room following that, only the sound of the heart monitor was audible from the door, so Raine took that as a sign to slip away before the detective left the room. She stood at the nurse’s station, her back to him as he exited. With her cell phone on selfie mode, she captured a picture of the side of his face as he passed. Raine slipped back into Willows room.
“Good morning, Raine,” Nurse Benson said, adjusting Willow’s blankets.
Raine took a seat on the stiff blue two-seater, needing a moment to process everything that was folding in around her. “Thank you,” she said through a sigh.
Shaking her head, “OH, no—good morning.” She half smiled up at the nurse.
Nurse Benson smiled at Willow, who was still sound asleep.
“No need to thank me, dear. The patient comes first, no matter what the situation. Besides, that man was no cop. He had an earring for crying out loud; not to mention his nails.”
She visibly shivered.
“They were so dirty.” Nurse Benson adjusted her glasses, giving Raine a firm stare as she remained deadly silent.
“He also tried very poorly to cover up some kind of tattoo on his hand.”
Raine spoke with a detached tone, “His shoes and suite looked brand new, smelt of cheap too.” Her eyes were on Bertha’s face, but they were looking right through her as she spoke deep in thought, “, like he’d just bought it from the nearest china-mall.”
Bertha cleared her throat. “Even if he was a real detective, my patients come first. I have ethics.”
“What if the patient was a killer?” Raine asked, taking a book from her bag and settling. She was genuinely curious as to what levels of loyalty Bertha would go.
“It’s not for me to judge. I’m here to heal. That’s it. Regardless.”
She smiled down at Raine, and from her apron withdrew a plastic sleeves containing what looked to Raine like magazine articles. Dismissing it, Raine’s eyes fell on her sister’s pale completion.
“How is she doing after last night?”
Bertha placed the plastic folder on the beside-table, and looked to Raine,
“A bit shaken up.”
Nurse Benson checked Willow’s drip, gave the monitor and its readings a once over, and continued speaking.
“The next forty-eight hours is crucial. We should know by then if she picked anything up on her walkabout.”
Raine gave the nurse a strange look. “You’re worried?”
“She came back wet. Positively shivering when George found her down in the basement. She could have caught a chill.” Her chin dipped as she met Raine’s gaze from over the rim of her glasses.
“It’s not good for transplant patients in recovery…”
The troubled look on her face was loud and clear and Nurse Benson stopped fidgeting with Willow’s pillow to come and sit beside her on the couch. Her hand reached out for Raine’s but Raine pulled back, holding on to her book nervously.
“I’ll take good care of you girls, she’s…” Nurse Benson’s eyes darted toward Willow who started stirring and mumbling in her sleep.
“She’s strong. You both are.” She stood. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back later.”
Raine nodded and smiled. She was so grateful to have such a friend at this difficult time.
Raine noted the dark circles underneath Nurse Benson’s eyes, and her slumped shoulders communicated weariness. Raine guessed that the woman had probably been with her sister all night—part from when she went missing for two hours of course.
Raine’s voice took on an almost whisper, she was desperate for someone to tell her everything was going to be alright, that no one was after her.
“That man, the one who was here asking questions…” she began.
Nurse Benson swiped her through the air in dismissal. “Forget about him—and what brought you here. All that matters is you are there for each other during this crucial time. Make it right, Raine. What’s done is done.”
Raine felt the insinuation in her words. Was Nurse Benson aware of Doctor Vermaak’s methods? She watched as the nurse closed the door behind her. Of course she was, Raine thought; there were probably a team of the staff involved in the proceedings, and the cover up. How else could such a situation carry on?
The ‘detective’ and his questions made a turn in her mind. Why had he been suspicious of Willow and her transplant? As far as she knew, she’d followed Doctor Vermaak’s instruction to the letter. Fear shuddered through her, and she tried to ignore the quiver in her hands as her nails dug into the binding of her book. She said a silent prayer for forgiveness, making a request to The Creator to get Willow healthy and back to South Africa before she got caught.
Raine would take all the consequences. She never expected to get away with it anyway. All bad things came a cost.