Page 6 of Wistful Whispers
“He was there. He was part of it. She’s—” His voice chokes off, his grief slamming into the room like a physical force.
I let the silence stretch for a beat, giving them the space to breathe through it. Then I sit forward slightly. “We’re going to hold the right people accountable. Dr. Caldwell was the lead surgeon. He made the calls. If Dr. McGloughlin played a role, we’ll uncover it.”
Daniel nods tightly, tears stream freely out of the corners of his eyes.
“Will we have to go to trial?” Myra manages to utter through her sobs.
“Most cases settle before we see a courtroom.” I fold my hands neatly on the table. They need to be able to trust me to hold things together. “Washington law requires mediation before trial which means, even after we file, we’ll have a chance to settle. This is when I’ll take their depositions, to see how strong our case is. Make no mistake—I prepare every case for trial. When we sit at the negotiating table, we’ll be ready no matter what.”
Daniel exhales. His features pulled tight though his expression loosens a fraction. Like he’s choosing to believe I can give them justice for Miranda. “What do we do next?”
I meet his gaze, steady and unwavering. “From here, I’ll do a deep dive into the medical records, file an initial claim, and start the process of gathering evidence including interviewing the doctors involved, as well as the hospital itself, to assess their defenses and strategy.” I pause, letting my words settle. “Once we have a clearer picture, we’ll decide on our next move—every step will be taken with your best interests in mind. Sound like a plan?”
Myra nods quickly, desperate for something—anything—to hold on to. “Yes. Please.”
I stand, and they follow. As I walk them to the front, they thank me profusely, their gratitude thick with exhaustion and something close to hope. We finalize the engagement letter, formalizing what they already knew the moment they stepped into my office.
They need me to fight.
I will.
This is what I do. I seek justice for parents like Myra and Daniel.
Once they’re gone, the firm’s hallway swallows the sound of their retreating footsteps. I turn and head back to my office, my own heels sharp against the floor. A rhythmic reminder about the work ahead.
I close the door behind me and sink into my chair. The room is silent. A type of quiet seeping into your bones making you think even when you don’t want to.
I should be focusing on strategy. On how I’ll break Caldwell apart.
Instead, Seamus McGloughlin’s face permeates my thoughts. I let myself imagine what it would feel like—his strong hands on my skin. Mouth against mine. The quiet, steady way I instinctively know he’d hold me.
Like I was something worth keeping.
My fingers trail over the polished surface of my desk. All I want to do is shove them down my panties and rub myself to oblivion.
It’s ridiculous. I don’t even know this man, yet I can’t shake the way Myra said his name, like she couldn’t possibly believe he fucked up.
The thing is, he might have been kind to Miranda and he probably made her parents believe she could be saved.
Now she’s in a hospital bed, locked inside herself. The image of her helpless body knocks some sense into me. I shake my head, dismissing my stupid sexual fantasies about some cocky resident because I’m lonely.
It doesn’t matter who he is. If he was part of this, I’ll find out.
This isn’t about me. It never is.
Seamus McGloughlin is a distraction I can’t afford.
Loneliness doesn’t win trials.
Miranda’s parents are counting on me to burn the system down.
I intend to light the match.
two
Seamus
A Few Day Later
