Chapter 8: The Report

The compliance notice went around the floor before breakfast.

Nobody said anything to my face. Nobody had to.

Two nurses at the desk stopped talking when I walked up.

One of them found something urgent to do with a printer.

Dee was waiting for me at the charge desk with her glasses on her head.

She slid a coffee across the counter.

"Drink," she said. "Then tell me which part of the report is true."

My mouth had gone dry.

"The nurse in it is me," I said.

"I know, hon."

"You know?"

"I've worked on this floor nineteen years. I know whose scrub top was inside out."

She pushed the coffee closer.

"The question is whether anyone forced you into that room."

"No." I met her eyes. "Nobody forced me. I want you to hear that."

Dee studied me for a long moment.

"Then we're going to behave like adults about it," she said. "Come on. He's about to need a witness."

Ezra stood at the far end of the desk with two people from compliance and a folder.

One of them was a woman in a gray suit with a lanyard, and the other held a tablet.

Preston stood a few feet behind them with his arms folded and his face arranged into concern.

"Dr. Finbarr," the woman in the suit said. "You've read the report. Is it accurate?"

Every nurse within earshot went still.

Ezra did not look at Preston.

"The date, the time and the place are accurate," he said. "That was last week, in my office."

"Ms. Caldwell was in my office with the door locked for about twenty minutes."

I stopped breathing.

"And why was the door locked?"

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