Chapter 2: St. Jude’s Emergency
The fluorescent lights of the emergency room at St. Jude’s Regional Hospital hummed overhead. Julian sat on a hard vinyl chair beside the examination table, his hands resting on his knees. Maya was sitting up, wrapped in a thin hospital blanket, sipping water from a paper cup.
Dr. Kenneth Harris, a tired-looking man with wire-rimmed glasses and silver hair, finished examining the skin on Maya’s back. He pulled his latex gloves off with a quiet snap and stepped toward the counter to write in her chart.
"It’s acute chemical dermatitis," Dr. Harris said, keeping his voice quiet and steady. "Whatever touched her skin was a concentrated industrial solvent. Has she been swimming in a pool, or maybe near any heavy cleaning products?"
"No," Julian said. "We moved into the new house on Blackwood Ridge three weeks ago. My wife... Clara’s family firm renovated the estate."
Dr. Harris paused, his pen hovering over the chart. He looked at Julian over the top of his glasses. "The ridge uses private groundwater wells. Did the real estate inspectors run a full panel on the water supply before you moved in?"
"Clara handled the inspection paperwork," Julian said, the memory of her dark burgundy dress and calm demeanor hovering bitterly in his mind. "She said the well was certified clean."
The curtain pulled back, and Clara walked in. She had changed into a navy sweater and jeans, though her eyes were sharp and guarded. She carried two bottles of spring water from the lobby vending machine.
"I brought clean water," she said, placing them on the bedside table. She looked at Dr. Harris. "Doctor, I’m Clara Vance. My family owns Vance Development. There must be a misunderstanding about the well. Our contractor flushed those lines twice last month."
"Mrs. Vance," Dr. Harris replied, his tone polite but firm. "The rash on this little girl's back isn't from poor plumbing. It’s consistent with organophosphate exposure or synthetic degreasers. I'm required by state regulations to report skin injuries of this nature to the county health board."
Clara’s jaw tightened slightly, her eyes shifting toward Julian. "We can handle this privately, Doctor. We have personal specialists in the city."
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"The report is mandatory, ma'am," Dr. Harris said softly. He turned back to Julian. "We'll keep Maya here overnight for observation and start a soothing topical cream. She’ll be alright, but she can't go back to that house until the water is tested."
Julian nodded slowly. "She’s not going back there."
