Page 44 of Phantom
“That’s so strange. She sounds attentive to her health, how could she justlosethem?” Dr. Portia asks under her breath, more to herself than to me, which is good since—once again—I’m out of answers.
She hands me back the bag full of medicine after studying each one and looks up to address me from her short stature.
“I will examine her, but ifsheis as dutiful to her medicine regimen asyouare…” Those judgments she hides so well finally leak through. Her sentence drifts off, thick with reprimand as she peers over her glasses at me.
I refuse to feel ashamed, though. Without me, Scarlett could very well be dead thanks to whatever her father was mixed up in with the Chatelains. Not to mention what happened tonight.
Then again, without me, she might never have overdosed in the first place.
The look of horror she had on her face when she saw the intact music sheets crushed my chest. She’d always looked at them with a coy happiness, her excitement unbridled and addicting to see. I don’t know what sparked the terrified look this time, but it cut me to the core.
Dr. Portia huffs at my lack of response before patting her sleek, gray bun, and resuming her professional demeanor. “If she is diligent, then our best-case scenario is that she only took those missing pills. Which means she’ll be fine. Expect grogginess and a horrible migraine in the morning. Perhaps nausea, but all in all, nothing more than a hard night on Bourbon Street.”
My heart lightens and the breath I’ve been holding escapes me like a balloon until my brother speaks. “And the worst-case scenario?”
Dr. Portia grimaces. “Worst-case scenario? She needs to go to the hospital as soon as possible and get her stomach pumped.”
Ben curses but I shake my head. “I made her vomit almost immediately after she took them. I would’ve done it even sooner but I wanted to get her away from prying eyes. That had to have helped, right?”
Dr. Portia nods. “Absolutely. With that in mind…” She blows out another breath and quirks her thin lips to the side as she thinks. “I’m guessing since I’m here, the hospital is a last resort? As per usual?”
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation.
“Sol, you can’t be responsible for her if things go south—” Ben chides, but I hiss back at him.
“You’ve seen what they do to patients. It’s a prison in there.” I don’t need to tell him Scarlett begged me not to. He understands well enough how traumatizing bad mental healthcare and psych wards can be.
Dr. Portia clears her throat. “In defense of the hospital, it really is much better than when your mother—”
“Oh, so doyouwant to stay there, then?” I challenge. Her lips flatten into a line. “Didn’t think so.”
Ben still shakes his head with disapproval, but Dr. Portia continues. “Fine. Is the guest room available in the family wing upstairs?”
“Yes, it is,” Ben provides this time.
“Very well. I’ll stay there tonight. After I check her vitals and examine her—”
“She’s asleep,” I argue.
Dr. Portia frowns at me like she used to do when I was a teenager. I frown back.
“I won’t do more than a bedside check unless I feel it’s absolutely necessary. And if I do believe that a more thorough examination is in order, you can’t stop me, Mr. Bordeaux.”
I scowl but don’t argue further. She’s doing me a favor as it is and I need her on my side.
“If you hurt her—”
“I won’t,” Dr. Portia snaps back.
Very few people can talk to me that way, but with her, I let it slide. The older woman has worked with our family for over a decade and has seen us through it all. If any outsider can scold me, it’s her.
The tense muscles in my shoulders relax as she continues our standoff, and I finally relent. I grab her heavy bag from my brother and lead the way to my still-dark bedroom without turning on the overhead light. When I get to the bedside table, I click on the dim lamp so that when I open the four-poster bed’s curtains, Scarlett won’t be accosted by harsh lighting. Once I’ve finished drawing back the black fabric, my chest tightens at the sight of my sleeping little muse.
She’ll be okay,I tell myself, hoping I’m right. I set the medical bag next to the bed and hover beside Dr. Portia. She pauses before beginning her examination.
“A little space, Mr. Bordeaux?”
My face twists, but I honor her request, backing away to join my brother. Dr. Portia pats Scarlett’s shoulder and she wakes with a start, but the doctor’s calming presence settles her. When her worried eyes search for me, a smile that’s more confident than I am lifts my lips.
