Chương 2
Claire looked at the monitor. “Probably.”
Dr. Shah ordered another electrocardiogram. A technician pressed adhesive pads against Claire’s chest and ankles. The paper emerged in a slow, narrow strip. Dr. Shah studied it, asked for an earlier tracing, and then asked Claire whether anyone had ever told her that the electrical recovery between her heartbeats appeared prolonged.
“No.”
“Has anyone used the phrase long QT?”
Claire almost laughed, though nothing was funny. “I’ve been told I’m dehydrated, anxious, dramatic, underweight, overcaffeinated, and possibly perimenopausal. Not that.”
Dr. Shah did not smile. “We’re admitting you.”
Claire’s first thought was not of death. It was of Lily’s blue backpack sitting near the mudroom door in Daniel’s house, one strap repaired with silver thread because Claire had not found matching blue. It was Friday. Lily would be home from school by now. Daniel had temporary residential custody until Judge Hanley ruled on the parenting plan.
“Can I call my daughter?”
“We’ll help you make a call. First I need to ask: does your daughter ever faint?”
Claire’s mouth went dry.
“Once,” she said. “At school. They said she hadn’t eaten.”
“When?”
“October.”
“Any dizziness? Racing heart? Seizure-like episodes?”
“She says the room tilts sometimes.”
Dr. Shah set down the electrocardiogram. “How old is she?”
“Eight.”
“We may recommend that she be evaluated too. This can be inherited in some cases. We don’t know enough yet.”
Claire reached for her phone and missed it on the first attempt. “I need to call her now.”
Daniel did not answer.
She called again.
On the fourth attempt, Patricia picked up using Daniel’s phone.
“Claire.”
Patricia said her name without greeting, as though resuming testimony.
“Where is Lily?”
“At home with her father, where the court placed her.”
“I need to speak to her.”
“She’s doing homework.”
“Put her on.”
“You’ve caused enough confusion today.”
Claire pressed her thumb hard against the edge of the phone. “A doctor says Lily may need her heart checked.”
Patricia was silent.
“Patricia?”
“Daniel said they found nothing.”
“They admitted me.”
“For observation.”
“No. Listen to me. Lily told me the room tilts. She fainted in October.”
“She skipped breakfast.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I was there when the nurse called.”
Claire pushed herself upright. The monitor leads tugged at her skin. “Then you know it happened.”
“Daniel is not going to drag a frightened child to an emergency room because you had another episode.”
Another episode.
The words landed with familiar precision. Daniel had used them in declarations, text messages, conversations with teachers, and once at a neighborhood cookout when Claire had needed to sit down. The phrase contained its own verdict. An episode belonged to the person having it. It required no cause outside her.
“I lost consciousness in a courtroom,” Claire said. “A physician checked me. The hospital found an abnormal rhythm.”
“You always find someone to take your side.”
“I’m asking you to help Lily.”
“You are asking us to react to your fear.”
“I’m asking you to let a doctor decide.”
Patricia breathed slowly into the phone. Claire could picture her at Daniel’s kitchen island, pearl earrings still on, the cream suit jacket folded over a chair. She would be smoothing one thumbnail over the other, the way she did when she wanted credit for restraint.
“Lily is safe,” Patricia said.
Claire closed her eyes. “Put Daniel on.”
“He’s speaking with his attorney.”
“Of course he is.”
“You should rest.”
“Put my daughter on the phone.”
Patricia ended the call.
Claire stared at the dark screen until a nurse came in to silence an alarm caused by her heart rate. The nurse asked whether she wanted the hospital social worker.
“No,” Claire said.
Then, before the nurse reached the door, she changed her answer.
The social worker arrived after seven. Her name was Tessa Green, and she carried a yellow legal pad despite using a tablet for everything else. She listened without nodding too much. Claire explained the custody case, the fainting, Lily’s school incident, Daniel’s control of the medical portal, and the fact that she had no proof he was refusing care because he believed her daughter was in danger.
“What do you want to happen tonight?” Tessa asked.
“I want Lily examined.”
“Do you believe she’s having symptoms right now?”
“I don’t know. They won’t let me speak to her.”
“Is there another adult in the home?”
“Patricia.”
“Do you have an attorney?”
Claire gave a tired laugh. “I have half an attorney. She bills in six-minute increments.”
Tessa waited.
“Nina Alvarez,” Claire said. “Her number is in my phone.”
Nina answered on the first ring. She had been in her car outside the courthouse, writing notes from the hearing before the details blurred. When Claire told her about the possible inherited condition, Nina stopped interrupting.
“Send me the doctor’s name,” she said.
“I don’t want this turned into another courtroom performance.”
“Neither do I.”
“That sounded exactly like something you say before turning it into a courtroom performance.”
“Claire, your daughter may need medical screening. This is not about winning tonight.”
“What can you do?”
“I can contact Daniel’s attorney and request immediate evaluation. If they refuse, I can contact the emergency judge. But I need the hospital physician willing to put the recommendation in writing.”
Claire looked through the glass wall of her room. Dr. Shah was speaking to a nurse at the station.
“She will.”
“Good. Also, the judge’s clerk called me. Judge Hanley suspended the hearing. He ordered both parties to preserve all medical records and communications related to today’s testimony.”
Claire leaned back against the pillow. “Daniel has the folder.”
“The clerk told him to leave it with the court.”
“Did he?”
A pause.
“No.”
Of course he had not.
Nina said Stephen Pell claimed Daniel had taken the folder by mistake during the emergency. Pell promised to deliver it the next morning.
“Photographed, edited, or accidentally dropped into a fireplace,” Claire said.
May you like
“Don’t text that to anyone.”
“I’m not stupid.”
