Page 28 of Doctor One Night

Shaking off the thought, I return to the data I was reviewing before he so rudely interrupted me.

TEN

Hunter

UAB Hospital

3:56 pm

Back in my office, I’m poring over research and trying to figure out what else I’m not seeing when it comes to this study. I finished my cases almost an hour ago, but I’m staying around to hopefully meet up with Frankie and review my concerns.

She replied to my email saying she would be in around 4:30 today. She didn’t comment either way about what I said in my message to her, so I’m not sure what her position will be. But I’m confident in my concerns, so how she perceives what I said is irrelevant to me.

When I realize I have a little more time to kill, I pick up the phone to reach out to my mother’s doctors to discuss my concerns about this strain of Hodgkins. I don’t want to inject myself there for so many reasons, but it is eating me alive.

She doesn’t understand what I’m trying to get from her and it appears her doctors either aren’t aware of this, or aren’t putting in the time to address her situation fully. I know if I call, they will be more on top of things. But that will open a whole hornet’s nest I’m not sure I’m ready for.

I hang up the phone after thinking better of it and try to come up with a plan. The last thing I need to do it go into it all hari-kari.

The data from Frankie’s trial is spread out in front of me, a sea of numbers and charts that I’ve been combing through for the past hour.

My attention-deficit disorder brain goes back to this.

There are some things that don’t quite add up, a few red flags that need to be addressed before we move forward. My mind is already running through how I’m going to bring it up to her without sounding like an ass.

A soft knock on the door shakes me out of my madness. I look up to see Jill, my assistant, poking her head in. She’s holding a folder, her usual end-of-the-day stack of paperwork for me to sign off on.

“Hey, Jill,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “You heading out?”

“Yeah, just about,” she replies, stepping into the room. “But I wanted to drop this off first. It’s the updated schedule for next week’s surgeries, and there are a few things that need your signature.”

I nod, reaching out to take the folder from her. As I flip it open, Jill lingers by the door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. There’s something on her mind.

“What’s up?” I ask, glancing up from the papers.

She hesitates for a second before speaking. “I saw the email come through about the meeting with Dr. Renna later today. Do you need me to print out anything for it? I noticed there were some revisions to the protocol that came in earlier.”

I pause, considering her question. I had asked her to pull some of the initial data last week, and she’s been helping me keep track of the revisions as they come in. But there’s something about the way she mentions Frankie that catches my attention—like there’s more she’s not saying.

“Yeah, actually, could you print out the latest version? And the revised charts, too,” I say, watching her closely.

“Of course,” she replies, turning to leave. But just before she steps out, she glances back at me, a thoughtful look on her face. “Dr. Renna seems really dedicated to this trial. I know that is her MO.”

Her words hang in the air for a moment, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s getting at. “She is,” I agree, waiting for her to elaborate, wondering where she is going with this.

Jill gives me a small smile, but there’s something else in her eyes—something almost like concern. “Just make sure you’re on the same page with her, Dr. Parrish. These things can get complicated if there are misunderstandings.”

And with that, she’s gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stare at the door for a moment, her words echoing in my mind. Jill’s usually straightforward, so when she drops hints like this, I know there’s something behind them.

I watch the closed door after Jill left my office, her words lingering in the air like a storm cloud that won’t dissipate. I can’t shake the notion that she knows something I don’t, and it’s grating on me.

What exactly does she mean by that warning about Frankie? I’m not one to let things slide, especially when it concerns my work, and this trial is too important to leave anything to chance.

I stand up, the chair scraping against the floor, and follow her out into the hallway. She’s just down the corridor, gathering her things from her desk, clearly ready to head out for the day. I quicken my pace, my curiosity getting the better of me, and call out before she can slip away.

“Jill, hold up.”

She turns, surprised to see me, her bag slung over one shoulder and her keys in hand. “Dr. Parrish? Is everything alright?”

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