Page 141 of Toxic Temptation
My chest tightens. This isn’t an accident.
This is Jeremy.
This is payback.
“Vesper!”
I turn to find one of my colleagues, Dr. Hastings, sprinting toward me. I frown when she gets close enough for me to see her usually perfect hair escaping its bun in wild, frizzy torrents.
“Thank God you’re here,” she stammers. “I need your help with a patient.”
I force myself to breathe. To focus. “What’s wrong with her?”
“That’s just it—I don’t know.” Jane’s frustration bleeds out in every exhale. “She’s having seizures, but I can’t figure out why. Nothing I’ve tried has worked.”
“Neurological damage?”
“None. She’s sharp as a tack. Alert, talkative. No history of epilepsy, no infections, no obvious trauma.” Jane combs her hands through her mussed hair. “I’m out of ideas.”
“How old?”
“Seventy-nine.”
My mind starts working. “Stroke?”
“Already checked. Her cardiovascular health is incredible. Better than most forty-year-olds.”
Something clicks. “I want to meet her.”
Jane nods, leading me toward the elevator. “She’s on eight.”
As we walk, more questions tumble out of me. “Any head injuries? Blood clots? When did the seizures start?”
“No injuries, no clots. The seizures began in her late fifties and they’ve gotten worse over time.”
“Around menopause?”
Jane stops walking. “I… Yeah, actually. Why?”
But I’m already moving faster, that familiar, thrilling buzz of discovery humming under my skin. The feeling I get when puzzle pieces start clicking into place.
When we reach her room, Carmen Monroe is exactly what I expected—sharp blue eyes, silver hair pulled back neatly, and the stern attitude to match.
“Another doctor?” She looks me up and down. “Let me guess. You’re here because Dr. Hastings can’t figure out what’s wrong with me.”
“Something like that.” I pull up a chair. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
She squints at me. “You’re far too young to be a doctor. Are you a prodigy or a ladder climber?”
“Neither,” I promise her. “Just a hard worker with a second opinion.”
Waving a hand, she pshaws. “I’ve had third, fourth, tenth, and twentieth opinions already. I’m rather sick of them, if we’re being honest. Perhaps I should go home and let the seizures do as they will with me.”
“Come on now, Carmen,” I scold lightly, shaking my head. “You don’t look like a quitter to me.”
She gives me a hint of a chuckle. “It’s not quitting if you’ve lived a long, full life and have no regrets. I’m not afraid of death, Doctor. In fact, I welcome it.”
“Brave as you may be, Ms. Monroe, it’s not my job to send you off to meet your maker. It’s my job to fix you up and postpone that meeting for as long as I can. You’re not gonna make a quitter out of me, are you?”
