Chapter 4: The Doctor Who Knew Too Much
“Because if you hear what he has to say, you'll understand why I couldn't let you know what happened to Maya.””
Vanessa's words hung between us.
I stared at her outstretched hands, at the phone she was clutching as if it contained the only thing keeping her life from falling apart.
“Give me one reason I should trust you,” I said.
She shook her head.
“Daniel, please. Not like this.””
“You refused to buy our daughter's medication. You hid her appointments from me. You prepared custody papers accusing me of being an absent father. And now her doctor is calling you about medical records you don't want me to see.””
“I never wanted Maya to get hurt!””
“Then why did you let her suffer?””
Vanessa flinched.
Her phone stopped ringing.
A second later, it began again.
Dr. Harris.
I held out my hand.
“Put it on speaker.””
“No.””
“Vanessa.””
“You don't understand what you're doing.””
“Neither do you, apparently.””
She looked at the screen for another three seconds before finally answering.
“Hello?”” Her voice trembled.
“Mrs. Reed, this is Dr. Harris. I've been trying to reach you regarding Maya's medical history.””
Vanessa glanced at me.
“Yes. I told you I'd handle it.””
“I'm afraid we need to speak with both parents. There are discrepancies between the information provided during Maya's recent appointments and the records we received from the previous clinic.””
My stomach tightened.
“What discrepancies?”” I demanded.
There was a brief silence.
“Mr. Reed? Is that you?””
“Yes. I'm standing right here. What is going on with my daughter?””
“I'm not comfortable discussing all the details over the phone. I would prefer to meet with you both, but I can tell you that we have a responsibility to clarify certain information before Maya's follow-up care continues.””
Vanessa closed her eyes.
I took one step toward her.
“What information?””
“The previous clinic documented repeated difficulties obtaining a complete medical history. There are also notes concerning medication that was prescribed but never collected.””
“I know about the prescriptions. What else?””
Dr. Harris hesitated.
“Mr. Reed, has Maya ever told you she was afraid to discuss her health with either parent?””
The question hit me like a physical blow.
I looked at Vanessa.
She had gone completely still.
“Yes,” I answered.
“She told me she was afraid of upsetting her mother.””
Vanessa whispered, “That's not fair.””
I ignored her.
“Doctor, what does that have to do with her medical history?””
“We received a report indicating that Maya may have been given medication at home that wasn't listed in her records. We need to verify that information before making assumptions.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Someone gave her medication without telling the doctors?””
“That's one possibility we're investigating. We don't yet know what was administered, by whom, or whether it contributed to her symptoms.””
I looked at Vanessa.
“Did you give Maya something?””
She shook her head immediately.
“No. Daniel, I swear.””
“Then why are you afraid of this conversation?””
“Because you're already convinced I'm guilty!””
Dr. Harris interrupted gently.
“Mr. Reed, I recommend bringing Maya's medication bottles and any relevant paperwork to the hospital. Please don't administer anything outside the treatment plan we've discussed.””
“Of course.””
“And one more thing. Please make sure Maya has a safe, calm environment while we clarify what happened.””
The call ended.
For several seconds, neither Vanessa nor I moved.
Then I asked the question that had been burning through my mind.
“What medication did you give her?””
“Nothing dangerous.””
“That isn't an answer.””
She sank into a chair.
“I gave her something for her stomach.””
“What?””
“A tablet.””
“What tablet, Vanessa?””
“I don't remember the name.””
“You don't remember the name of something you gave our eight-year-old daughter?””
She pressed both hands against her face.
“It was in the bathroom cabinet. I thought it would help.””
“Was it prescribed to Maya?””
“No.””
The word came out so quietly I almost didn't hear it.
I gripped the back of the nearest chair.
“What was it prescribed for?””
Vanessa stared at the floor.
“My mother used to take it.””
“Your mother?””
“For stomach problems.””
“Your mother is an adult. Maya is eight!””
“I know that!””
Her voice cracked.
“I know that now.””
I took out my phone and called Dr. Harris back. His office arranged for us to bring in the bottle if we could locate it.
Vanessa remained seated while I went upstairs to the bathroom cabinet.
I found children's fever medicine, adhesive bandages, and several prescription containers.
One bottle had a label bearing Vanessa's mother's name.
It had expired months earlier.
The instructions indicated that the medication was intended for an adult.
I photographed the label and carried the bottle downstairs.
Vanessa stared at it.
“That's the one,” she whispered.
I felt sick.
“How much did you give her?””
“One tablet.””
“When?””
“Last night.””
“And she was still in pain this morning?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn't you take her back to the doctor?””
“Because I thought it would pass!””
I called the hospital and told them what we'd found. They instructed me to bring the bottle and not give Maya any more of the medication.
I put it in a sealed plastic bag.
When I turned around, Vanessa was crying.
“I didn't mean to hurt her,” she said.
I wanted to believe that she hadn't intended to hurt our daughter.
But intention couldn't erase the decisions she'd made.
“You should have told me.””
“I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
She wiped her cheeks.
“Of losing everything.””
I stared at her.
“Our daughter was in pain, and you were afraid of losing what?””
Vanessa opened her mouth, then closed it.
I waited.
Finally, she whispered, “The money.””
I didn't understand.
“What money?””
She looked toward the window.
“The money your father left you.””
My father's inheritance had been placed in a trust years earlier. Vanessa knew about it, but the money was managed separately from our regular household accounts.
“What does my inheritance have to do with Maya's medicine?””
Vanessa's fingers twisted around a tissue.
“I made a mistake with some of the accounts. I thought I could fix it before you noticed.””
I felt as if the floor had shifted beneath me.
“What accounts?””
She started crying harder.
“Daniel, please. Let me explain everything at home.””
“No. You're going to explain it now.””
She shook her head.
“I can't.””
“Then I'm going to the hospital with this bottle, and I'm asking the doctor to document exactly what happened.””
Her face changed.
“You wouldn't do that to me.””
“I am doing this for Maya.””
I left before she could answer.
At the hospital, Dr. Harris examined the bottle and asked me to describe everything Vanessa had admitted. He made notes, arranged for the appropriate medical evaluation, and emphasized that we couldn't know the effects of the medication without further assessment.
I answered every question as accurately as I could.
Then he asked me to sit down.
“Mr. Reed, there's something else I need you to understand. The clinic received a request for Maya's medical records last week.””
“From whom?””
“Someone claiming to represent a family law office.””
My heart began pounding.
“Vanessa's lawyer?””
“We're verifying the request. We didn't release anything beyond what our policies permit.””
I leaned forward.
“What did the request say?””
Dr. Harris studied me carefully.
“It asked for documentation concerning Maya's health, her primary caregiver, and any missed appointments.””
I thought of the custody papers in Vanessa's drawer.
She hadn't merely been preparing to accuse me of neglect.
Someone had been gathering information about our daughter's medical care while she controlled access to it.
“Doctor, I need copies of every record I'm legally entitled to receive.””
“We can help you request them through the proper process.””
I thanked him and returned to Maya's room.
She was sitting up, coloring a picture of a house with a yellow sun above it.
Rachel sat beside her.
When Maya saw me, she immediately put down her crayons.
“Daddy, did Mommy call?””
“Yes, sweetheart.””
“Is she angry?””
I sat beside her.
“I don't know. But you don't have to worry about grown-up arguments. Your job is to get better.””
She studied my face.
“Are you going to make me go home with her?””
The question stopped my breath.
“No one is going to ignore your feelings, Maya. I'm going to make sure you're safe.””
She leaned against me.
I held her until her shoulders relaxed.
Then my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
The message contained a photograph of the locked drawer in Vanessa's bedroom.
Below it were nine words.
*Check the bank statements before you believe your wife.*
May you like
A second message arrived before I could respond.
*Your daughter isn't the only person Vanessa has been lying to.*
