Keeping Secrets

by Lisa Eugene

  This book is dedicated to those who struggle each day with mental illness, those whose cries are often silent. You should be heard.

  Copyright 2015 by Lisa Eugene

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to institutions or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design and Interior format by The Killion Group

  http://thekilliongroupinc.com

  Is that how a little girl sits?

  No, Daddy.

  How should a little girl sit?

  Shoulders back and tummy in.

  That’s my girl.

  Alexa

  Jake’s body vibrated with fine tremors, but it wasn’t until his teeth chattered that my worry spiked. I turned to the nurse at the bedside, seeking a compass for my scattered emotions, but could read nothing in her expression of deep concentration. She was too busy pushing meds into Jake’s IV line, ones that hopefully would subdue the reaction he was having to his chemotherapy.

  He’d been my patient since I started my pediatric rotation, three weeks earlier. The first day I met him, he was having trouble breathing. His doctor had pulled the medical students aside and warned us privately that he most likely wouldn’t make it through the evening. Jake didn’t have a good prognosis. My heart had withered in my chest, reduced to nothing but fear and sorrow.

  Dreading what we thought was inevitable, none of the medical students had wanted this assignment. I was randomly selected and had steeled myself against emotions so raw, they gnawed at me from the inside. I’d spent that evening with Jake, sitting for long moments at his bedside. I’d watched his exhaustive battle, and with a heavy heart, had concluded his defeat. I’d seen his frailty, but mostly, I’d seen his strength, and had been awed by his humanity.

  With big blue eyes and a smile so bright it could rival the sun, it was no wonder I’d fallen for him, hard. That evening, Jake had triumphed over darkness. He’d become my hero. Jake was life. Jake was hope.

  Now he was fighting another battle. Wringing my fingers, I watched a quiver work its way through his tiny, six-year-old body.

  “Were his parents called?” I asked the nurse, trying to keep my voice calm and staying out of her way.

  “They’re on their way,” she replied, passing a syringe to the resident at Jake’s bedside.

  As a fourth-year medical student, I was still rotating through the various services. Pediatric oncology was the most harrowing. Dread crawled through my chest as blue tinged Jake’s lips and painted his fingers. Eyes wide in his bald head, his gaze searched for me. I offered a wobbly smile—my pathetic attempt at encouragement.

  Not knowing what else to do, I scooted behind him, cradling his frail body while the team attended to him. His face was placid, almost serene. It was amazing what a child could endure. Jake’s bravery was not an absence of fear, but his triumph over it. His precocious awareness and quiet acceptance of his illness humbled me.

  But today I had plenty of fear for both of us. My attending physicians constantly preached about detachment, about not getting too close to patients. I had a hard time with that. I had a hard time accepting that death could steal my hero.

  When his body jerked, I held him tighter, tucking his warmth against me as I whispered empty reassurances. It was half an hour before they stabilized him and the tremors finally subsided. He was drifting off to sleep when his parents arrived. After speaking with them for a few minutes, I dawdled in the nursing station until Tina, another medical student, arrived to relieve me.

  My shift was over, but I found I couldn’t leave. Fear settled inside my body like another organ, pulsing with terrifying life. Jake was just a kid, for God’s sake. It wasn’t fair that he was battling this ferocious monster called leukemia. He was defenseless, hope and innocence his only ammunition. I finished up some paperwork and looked in on a few patients.

  Needing reassurance before I left the hospital, I checked in on Jake, and was surprised to see him awake. He smiled when I entered the room, and his warmth wrapped around me. I could tell he was drowsy from the meds, stubbornly fighting sleep.

  “Hey there, sunshine,” I said, approaching the bed.

  “Are you leaving?”

  Sitting on the edge of his mattress, I seized his small hand, needing to feel the pulse of his life.

  “Just for a little while. I’m coming back tonight for a short shift.”

  Excitement ignited in his eyes, stealing a laugh from me. I knew that look. A present always came with my short shift.

  “You’ll get a treat, only if you get some rest, and as long as it’s okay with your parents.” I turned to Mr. and Mrs. Madison, who sat on the opposite side of the bed, camouflaging sad eyes with bright smiles. They nodded, laughing as Jake pleaded. It was good to see his spirit rekindled. Grinning, I stuck out my hand, ready for our game.

  “Let’s see who wins, sunshine.”

  A cutthroat game of rock-paper-scissors ensued. If he won, he got to decide the treat. He was the victor and requested his favorite prize.

  “A vanilla shake with rainbow sprinkles mixed in,” he announced brightly.

  Sighing heavily, I shook my head in mock exasperation. “Again? You’re going to clean this city out of ice-cream!”

  “Uh-huh,” he answered seriously.

  “We’ll have to start raising cows in Central Park, simply to support your habit.”

  That earned me a giggle. His joy was contagious, assuaging the tender ache in my chest. I wondered if he knew I always let him win our game.

  Saying goodbye, I dragged my tired body out of the hospital and across town to my one-bedroom apartment. If I was lucky, I’d catch a few hours of sleep before my short shift started.

  It seemed my head had just hit the pillow when the sound of my beeper jerked me awake. I bolted upright in bed, the comforter puddling around my waist. Pushing on my glasses, I snatched the beeper from my nightstand, smothering down dread as I read the words.

  JAKE NOT DOING WELL. THOUGHT YOU’D WANT TO KNOW.

  It was Tina. Fuck! I tossed off the covers and hopped into the scrubs that could tell stories. A minute later, I tore through my apartment door, sleep abandoned, my heart hammering my ribs so hard I thought they might crack. I pulled out my cell and punched in Tina’s number.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded, when Tina answered.

  “His blood pressure bottomed out. He’s getting fluid boluses now.”

  “I’m coming.”

  “No. Seriously, you don’t have to. The attending doctor is here. Critical Care is here. Jake’s parents are here. We’ll stabilize him again.”

  She was trying to calm her voice, but I could hear panic jumping through her words. “What’s happening?” The sound of people barking orders in the background did nothing to allay my anxiety.

  “I have to go!”

  “Wait—”

  I cursed when my phone went silent, and shoved it into my pocket. There wasn’t a cab in sight when I emerged at a jog from my apartment building. Swearing, I ran around to the garage where my dad’s car was parked. He’d reluctantly loaned me his prized possession so I could attend a friend’s engagement party last weekend. He would rather have given me a kidney. I hadn’t had time to return it. Studying for exams, attending classes, and putting in my hospital hours was the insanity of my lif
e, which I loved and hated all at once.

  Now, though, I was thankful I had the car. I’d whisk across Eighth Avenue and be at the hospital in no time.

  Sitting behind the wheel, I forced in a few deep breaths. My vision filled with the image of Jake’s brave little smile.

  Feeling the press of tears, I stubbornly blinked them back. Jake would be okay. He’d been through this before; he’d fought and won many battles. Despite his weakened state, he was a resilient kid. I needed to be there for him, to add my weight to his anchor during yet another storm.

  Thank God there was very little traffic. Timing the cross-town signals, I toasted the red lights. My beeper sounded again, and my heart lurched. I snatched it up, barely making out the bold text.

  My world was suddenly seized by chaos. A corrosive screech shattered the air, followed by the crunch and grind of resistant metal. My body lurched brutally forward, then snapped back against the leather seat. A scream, high-pitched and interminable, abused my ears, and distantly, I realized it was from my own throat.

  I straightened, flinging breaths from my opened mouth. A dull pain across my shoulder made me thankful for my seatbelt. I would’ve gone through the windshield otherwise. Casting off my shock, I did an internal inventory. It seemed I was okay, but the sound of the crash kept echoing in my brain.

  What the hell just happened? The beeper, caged in my fingers, signaled again, intruding reality. Grabbing my glasses from my lap, I shoved them back on. Jake!

  WE CALLED A CODE BLUE

  Dread replaced the adrenaline in my blood. Jake must’ve taken a turn for the worse to warrant the code team. Forcing out a deep breath, I trampled the images of his tiny body, surrounded by a team of doctors and nurses frantically trying to save his life.

  He would be okay. He’d have a machine breathe for him until he recovered and could do it on his own. I said a silent prayer.

  I have to get there. I need to see him. His parents must be freaking out.

  The sudden pounding on my window was intrusive, grating like a blade on my skin. I turned my head as anger tensed my shoulders, but awareness came rushing back. Quickly, I rolled down the window and stared into the anxious face pushing into my car.

  “Lady! Are you okay?”

  I nodded, still trying to wrap my brain around the last few minutes.

  “Are you sure?” the deep voice shouted, so close to my ear it was almost deafening.

  “Y-yes,” I stammered. Releasing my seatbelt, I pushed the car door open. A crowd of spectators had already gathered at the scene. They looked on with concern, but maintained the customary New York City distance.

  A different panic gripped me. I turned to the man. “Is anyone hurt?”

  “No.” He stepped aside as I got out of the car.

  Relief loosened some of the tension in my muscles, but I was wound tight from my spiraling emotions. Thank God no one had been hurt. Quickly circling to the front of the car, I cursed when I saw the damage. Shit! The front ends of the two vehicles were mutilated, crinkled like paper in a tight fist. I groaned under my breath, recognizing the other vehicle, an uber-expensive sports car. Not capable of dealing with this now, I turned away with my mind on Jake.

  I’d taken a step toward my car when the man blocked my path.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you, lady? Look at what you’ve done to my car!”

  I blinked, suddenly realizing that this man was the driver of the other vehicle, which had sustained more damage. The front end of the red sports car was severely mangled.

  “I-I—”

  He pulled to his full height. He was well over six feet, his shoulders wide, and his face contorted in anger. The sheer size of him alone was threatening. Deep gray eyes swirled with a temper, forcing me into a cautious step back. I skipped my gaze around the street, looking for an ally in the crowd, should I need one. I found only wary expressions and gazes refusing to make full contact.

  “You what? Why the hell weren’t you watching where you were going? You could have killed someone!”

  The sharp, angry words surprised me. Reflexively, outrage heated my face. He is blaming me? I’d timed all the lights. I remembered this signal being yellow as I’d skated through it. He’d obviously turned too early at the cross street.

  “What are you talking about?” I countered. “You were trying to make a right and must’ve not seen me. Maybe you didn’t bother to look.”

  The angles of his face honed to a menacing scowl.

  “That’s bullshit! You went through a red light!”

  “I did not! This isn’t my fault!”

  “Look at what you did to my damn car!”

  I pinched my lips, disgust curdling my stomach. That’s what he is going on about? There was a little boy in crisis. I needed to get to the hospital. We’d have to deal with this later.

  “Do you have any idea what kind of vehicle that is? I waited two years—”

  “I don’t have time for this!” Pushing past his large frame, I stepped toward my car, surprised he allowed me by. He was as solid as a giant oak, and seemed just as unyielding.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” His hand shot out to slam my car door closed. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  I swirled, my stomach sinking before I balled my fingers into fists. I seriously wanted to hit something—a damned big, annoying something.

  He pulled his cell from his back pocket. “I’m calling the cops.”

  “No!” I gasped, adjusting my glasses on my nose. “Please, no. We’ll be here all night. I have to go! I can’t waste time.”

  The pendulum of a clock was swinging. The dull ringing of a bell echoed in my ears, counting the minutes. Time was running out.

  Jake…

  He cocked a brow, shooting me a look full of reproach. With a mumbled oath, he powered on his phone.

  Reaching into my car, I quickly pulled out a pad and pen.

  “I’ll give you my info. Please, no cops,” I pleaded, trying to soften my tone. “I’ll take care of your car. I promise. I just have to go!” Right now I’d say anything, promise anything.

  He rolled his eyes and shifted his weight to a long, jean-clad leg before tightening his lips to a thin line. His eyes dulled to hard, cold glaciers.

  “No way, lady! We’re waiting for the cops. You’re not getting away with this.”

  “Please…” My voice split open with emotion and I hated it, but fear was chewing up my insides. “I’m a doctor. I have an emergency at the hospital. I have to go.”

  “Yeah, right,” he chuckled carelessly.

  “Do you think I dress like this just for the hell of it?” I couldn’t help but match the attitude he was giving me. I peered down at my filthy scrubs. “Look at me. Are blood stains the new trend?”

  His stony gaze raked over me, taking in my dirty sneakers and stained blue scrubs. He paused, and for the first time I saw a crack in his steely resolve. For a moment, his gaze lingered on my face. I could only guess what he must’ve seen in my eyes, but he lowered the phone. I started quickly scribbling my name.

  “How do I know that Alexa is your real name, or that you’ll give me the right phone number? We need a police report. This damage has to be paid for.”

  I swore under my breath. That damn car was all he could think about. I’d already said I’d take care of it. His pissy attitude was grating my nerves. I finished writing and stuck the pen in my pocket.

  “This is my info.” I shoved it in his face. “It’s for real.”

  He scowled, pulling his dark brows into a dubious line as he carefully read what I’d written.

  “What?” I scoffed angrily. “You want me to sign it in blood? I really have to go! There’s a little boy having an emergency at the hospital.”

  His scowl deepened, but he snatched the paper from my hand and stepped aside.

  “Don’t kill yourself on the way,” he growled roughly. “At least not until you fix this damn mess.”

  Asshole! Rolling
my eyes, I ignored his snide remark. Not giving him a second look, or a chance to change his mind, I jumped quickly into my car. I sighed in relief when the engine kicked on. Reversing, I hurried from one nightmare to another.

  The air was different. I noticed it as soon as I stepped onto the pediatric unit. Something tinged the air, making it heavy, almost suffocating. I struggled to breathe. The staff moved like zombies, eyes cast down as I maneuvered through the nurses, through the melee that looked like the unit had been a battlefield.

  It was always like this when a child coded, more so than on other wards. Somehow, the near-death of a child could not be reconciled. It was…unnatural. Jake would be breathing with the aid of a machine by now. He’d soon be moved to the intensive care unit, if he wasn’t there already. I hadn’t seen his parents when I’d passed the waiting room, so I assumed they were with him in his room. My heart hurt as I imagined their weepy faces. They’d be at his bedside holding his hand and whispering words of love.

  Jake…

  I swallowed hard, my need to see him overwhelming.

  Tina saw me first, seeming to move in slow motion before she got to me. Her short hair stuck out in all directions. Her eyes were round and glassy.

  “Alexa…” she breathed.

  I sucked heavy air into my lungs, vaguely aware that I’d started shaking my head.

  “How is he?”

  “Alexa…” My name was almost a groan.

  “How is Jake?” I asked again.

  “He’s gone, Alexa.”

  “Gone? Did they move him to the ICU already?” I frowned.

  Pain flickered in Tina’s eyes. Her fingers circled my wrist as she shook her head.

  “Jake didn’t make it,” she said.

  The air was profoundly inadequate. My lungs faltered. I blinked and blinked, turning her words over and over.

  “That’s impossible,” I whispered. “I promised him a vanilla shake,” I heard myself add absurdly.

  I looked down at my trembling fingers, my emotions as stifling as the air. I didn’t realize I was crying until a tear fell and broke apart on my palm.

  “I’m so sorry, Alexa. I know you were close to him. It happened just a few minutes ago,” Tina said.