Chapter 11: She Doesn't Transfer

Dee was waiting for me in the staff lounge with the door locked and a manila folder on the table.

"Sit," she said.

I sat.

"I've been saving this for a year." She slid it across. "I was hoping I'd never have a reason to open it."

The tab on the front said GAINES.

Inside were four pages of notes in Dee's tight handwriting, with dates down the margin.

I read the first page and my stomach dropped.

A nurse had moved to the ICU in March after a resident told people she was too uptight to be touched.

A second nurse had gone to night shift in the fall after the same resident spread a story about what she kept in her locker.

A third entry had only my name. The date was six months ago.

"He does it to every woman who leaves him," Dee said.

"He can't stand to be the one who was left. So he makes sure she's the one who looks bad."

"Why didn't anyone report him?"

"They did. To me. I wrote it down, and nobody above me wanted to read it."

She took off her glasses.

"A resident with a famous father is hard to stop. You need more voices than mine."

I held the folder against my chest.

"How many do you need?"

"Honey, I need the whole floor."

I stood up.

"Then let's go and get it."

It took me the rest of the afternoon.

I caught the day nurses at the med room and the evening shift as it came in.

I went to the float pool and the recovery unit on the fourth floor.

I did not make a speech. I told each one the same short thing.

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