Page 106 of Keep This Promise
“Give me the file,” I say, reaching my hand out. “I’ll go over every fucking line of it.” He hands it to me, and I turn to walk back into my room where it’s quiet but stop to face them first. “Act as though this contains nothing because, for all I know, it’s worthless. Find my daughter. Please.”
“We’re working on it,” Jackson promises. “We won’t give up.”
With that, I head into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind me.
Hours pass, and I have read almost everything. So far, there is nothing other than one doctor using my license number in his notes. I’m spinning in circles, feeling as if I’m going insane, and finally reach a breaking point. I grab my phone and call the doctor’s office. After my insistence that I speak to the doctor immediately, they reluctantly put me through.
“Hello, Dr. Frasher, this is Dr. Holden James, I’m calling in regards to a patient of yours, Theodore Pearson.”
“Yes, Mr. Pearson was a patient of mine, but I’m not sure I can help as he’s passed away.”
“You were his primary doctor, were you not?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I can answer any questions.”
“Dr. Frasher, I am aware that Theo is dead, and I am also going to be frank and explain as quickly as I can. I am Eden’s biological father. His wife, Sophie, was sent away because their lives were in danger. Now, I am asking why, on all your records, my medical license number was used in various ways like as replacements for his temperature, blood pressure, or pulse rates. All things that, to the normal person, may seem off, but to me, say there’s more.”
He doesn’t speak for a minute, but I wait, hoping he’ll give me an answer.
“I’m sorry, Dr. James, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Theo was my patient, but there is nothing I can tell you that might help.”
“Please, I’m not asking for me. I’m asking because someone’s life is in danger.”
Dr. Frasher clears his throat. “Give me a date, and I’ll look at the chart to see where a mistake might be.”
I flip to the first time my number was used and tell him.
“What seems odd to you, Dr. James?”
“The blood pressure is listed as 86/753.”
“You must be mistaken. My records show his numbers were 123/77, which is a bit hypertensive but not enough to cause alarm.”
No, that’s not what my file says. “I’m reading it now. The printed chart says 86/753.”
There is a heavy sigh. “Must’ve been done afterward because that’s not what my records reflect.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and fight back the urge to throw the phone across the room. “Check another date.” He does, and once again, the information isn’t the same. “How are your files different from the one I have in my hand?”
“I’m not sure, but I’d be most interested to know how you acquired my confidential patient records.”
I had the hospital record, his cardiologist, and his primary all pulled and sent to me on the premise I was doing a postmortem investigation on his death.
“It’s of no consequence. I’m most interested in why the records have been altered.”
“Doctor, I am looking at my original hard copy and telling you exactly what I see.”
“Thank you, I won’t waste any more of your time.”
“Good day.”
I hang up and lie back on the bed, saying a prayer to my sister to watch over Eden because I have clearly failed.
I must’ve fallen asleep because when I open my eyes, Sophie is in bed with me, curled up against my side. I wrap my arm around her and kiss her forehead. I promised her I’d protect her, and even though I didn’t, she is here.
My phone shows it’s only been an hour since I spoke with the doctor, but it’s the most sleep I’ve gotten since Eden was taken.
Sophie stirs, her eyes fluttering a few times before opening. “Still nothing?”
