I pivot to him, my anger boiling. “I can’t treat him. I need a doctor and a treatment plan.”
“Lucky for you, I’m resourceful. I acquired all of Mathis’s notes for Josh. We’re going to follow the same protocol.”
“But you’re not a doctor!” I scream, my voice echoing off the tile floors and walls. “He needs a hospital.”
He snaps his head, his eyes now black and terrifying. “No, I’m not a doctor, but I’m your best bet to help save his life. So you understand, you’re going to be working with me closely. You’ll have everything you need.”
“Why me?”
“Because he is my family and family gets the best.” There’s a hitch in his breath, the first sign of compassion since walking in the room. This is the person in his life that turns his eyes warm when he looks at the children with cancer.
“Who are you?” I repeat.
“You can call me Stefan, and when we are in his presence, I demand respect. If you disappoint me, you will not like the consequences.”
I want to scream, shout, claw his eyes out, and stab him with any sharp item within arm’s reach. Then I peer at the pitiful young man in the hospital bed struggling for his life and know I can’t let him die without a fighting chance.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and dig deep to bury my hatred. “I need more details.” My voice is unrecognizable.
Stefan begins to spout off details of this young man’s medical history, and my heart breaks. He’s fifteen and originally diagnosed with meningitis eighteen months ago, treated at a low-income hospital and turned away. His medical treatment has lacked consistency, and he’s lucky to be alive. Once we cover the most recent diagnosis of stage three leukemia and the recommended plan, my eyes are stinging.
“What’s his name?” I whisper, staring through the glass.
“Carlos. His nickname is Rocket. When he was well and played community ball, he had a rocket arm.”
“I’ll call him Rocket,” I declare, thinking of how much Nick would love to meet this boy.
We stay quiet for a few minutes, my mind racing, but one thought keeps pressing at me. “You have money.”
“I do.”
“You say he’s family, he deserves the best. Why was he treated at a low-income facility?”
“My family was resistant to accept my help, until now.”
“Isn’t it illegal to turn him away? He should have patient rights.”
“Let’s just say I finally took control of the situation and did what needed to be done.”
“You mean like impersonating a medical intern and kidnapping me?”
His lips curl up in a wicked sneer. “Question time is over. Are you ready to go in?”
I shake my head, wanting to do this right. “No, I need my scrubs. They are in my black backpack that’s missing. It’s important he meet me as a nurse. It’ll help gain his trust upfront and not confuse him.”
“Understandable.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him typing something into his phone, and less than a second later, the door behind us opens. I don’t look to see who arrives, but my scrubs are handed to me.
“Where do I change?”
“Bathroom is to your right.”
I leave without a word, changing quickly and tossing my hair into a makeshift bun. My thoughts stray to Mathis, my parents, the girls, and how crazy they must be. I’ll find a way to contact them, but I know my job right now. Meet this little boy and try to help him.
“How are you feeling?” I gently re-tie the hospital strings around Carlos’ neck and toss the soiled swab in the trash.
“Meh, not too bad.”