Chapter 3

Peter had barely stormed out when my phone rang. An unknown number.

I answered, and an old woman's voice came through. "Excuse me, is this Evangeline Winfield? Lindsay Winfield's daughter?"

I froze. "This is Evangeline. Who's this?"

Her voice trembled a little. "My name is Celine Dickerson. I used to be a nurse in cardiac surgery at Farhaven Hospital."

"The night your mother was admitted, I was the one on duty."

"I... I failed your mother. I failed you. I'm so sorry."

My chest lurched. "Aunt Celine, where are you? I'll come to you right now."

We met at a coffee shop near the hospital.

The back room was quiet. She sat across from me, her face full of shame, her hair gone gray, her skin lined with wrinkles, an old cloth bundle clutched tight in her hands.

I poured her a cup. "Aunt Celine, have some tea. Take your time."

She nodded, took a sip, and finally began, slowly. "This has been sitting on my heart for eighteen years. I haven't slept a whole night in all that time."

"Child, I failed your mother, and I failed you."

"If I'd had the courage back then to speak up, your mother wouldn't have died like that, with no one ever telling the truth of it."

I said softly, "Don't blame yourself. You had no choice back then."

"That you're willing to tell me the truth now, that's already more than enough."

Celine sighed and drew out a yellowed notebook.

"This is my duty log from those days. I kept it in secret."

"It was March seventeenth. Your mother came in with an acute heart attack. She was in critical condition."

"Dr. Whitney was on duty. He was junior, wasn't sure what to do, so he rushed to call Chief Henson, the second-line backup."

"Chief Henson was the best blade in cardiac surgery. If he'd come back, your mother could have been saved."

She turned to one page and pointed. "See? I wrote it all down."

"Seven ten p.m., first call to Chief Henson. He said he was out, that he'd be right back."

"Eight o'clock, called again. He said he was in the middle of an emergency surgery, couldn't get away, told us to keep her on conservative treatment."

Celine looked up, her eyes filling. "There was no emergency surgery that night."

"I checked the OR log myself. The last operation that day finished at six in the afternoon."

"When I got off shift, I saw Chief Henson's car at the hospital entrance. Myra Sullivan, Ann's mother, was in the passenger seat, holding a birthday cake..."

My fist tightened. I knew all of this already, and still, hearing it from someone who was there sent a stab straight through me.

Celine wiped her eyes. "Chief Henson was head of the department then. His word was law."

"I didn't dare cross him."

"After your mother passed, the hospital's official conclusion was that her condition deteriorated and resuscitation failed."

"Your uncle raised a fuss about it a few times. It was always smoothed over."

"And then Chief Henson was promoted to director, and I dared say even less."

I drew a slow breath. "So why are you willing to talk now?"

Her eyes reddened. "I've been retired for years now. My health keeps getting worse. I kept thinking, if I don't say it now, then one day I'll be gone, and no one will ever know the truth."

"A few days ago I heard from an old coworker that you're the chief credentialing examiner now, and that you blocked Ann Henson's promotion."

"And I knew. I knew you meant to get justice for your mother."

"I'm willing to take the stand. I'll tell everything about what happened back then."

My eyes went wet. "Thank you. Truly."

Celine hesitated, then went on. "The nurse who gave your mother her injection that night, her name was Audrey Lawrence. She was a distant cousin of Myra Sullivan's."

"That night, Dr. Whitney only ordered the standard medications. But when I looked at the chart later, there was an extra dose. A sedative."

"I asked Audrey about it. She said Chief Henson gave the order over the phone. Something felt wrong to me, but I didn't dare ask any more."

I couldn't believe it. "A sedative for a heart attack patient suppresses breathing, worsens heart failure. In a serious case, it can kill!"

Celine bowed her head, guilt in her voice. "That's why I've never been at peace all these years."

"I always felt your mother's death was more than just a surgery that came too late."

"But I had no proof, and I didn't dare say anything careless."

Something inside me shook hard.

So my mother hadn't died because her condition deteriorated at all. She died because Peter deliberately delayed, and worse, deliberately used the wrong drug.

I looked at Celine. "Aunt Celine, have you told anyone else about this?"

She said quickly, "Never. Today's the first time I've told a soul."

I asked again, "Could I borrow your duty log?"

Celine pushed the notebook across to me. "As long as it gets your mother justice, I'll do anything."

Outside the coffee shop, the wind hit me, and only then did I realize my whole back was soaked.

I held that heavy notebook, and my hands were shaking.

All this time, I'd thought all I wanted was to expose him for what he truly was, a man who let someone die, and to ruin him.

But now I knew the truth was far crueler than I'd imagined.

He hadn't been too late. He did it on purpose.

He deliberately didn't come back, and he deliberately used that drug, and he watched my mother die with his own eyes.

Why?

For Myra and Ann? For his affair?

I stood at the roadside, gasping for air, tears falling and falling beyond my control.

Eighteen years. I thought I'd grown strong enough. But the moment the truth tore open, the pain still left me unable to breathe.