Page 9 of Her Only Hero

I stopped and glanced at him. How did he know that? I must have mentioned it at some point. “That’s perfect, Patrick, thank you.” I sat at the table and took a bite of the succulent bacon sandwich. “This is fantastic.”

“Glad you like it,” he said and sat beside me. His gaze dropped to where my housecoat gaped open. For someone highly articulate, he seemed to be grasping for words. “Last night, I, had no idea you were into that sort of stuff.”

Heat rose to my cheeks.

“Usually I can read people, make accurate predictions about behaviors, but I have to say, you surprised me.”

I fidgeted with the corner edge of the newspaper. I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t want to start explaining. Why I did what I did with the handcuffs would probably make no sense to him. If he knew about my emotional struggle, he’d bolt for the door.

“I hope you enjoyed the surprise.”

He smiled. “I rarely like surprises, but yours was most welcome. And appreciated.”

“I’m glad,” I said, relieved, and lowered my gaze.

Bold black letters of a headline caught my attention, and I pulled the newspaper closer. “Oh my God?” I dropped my sandwich onto the plate.

“What is it?”

“This article.”

He picked up the paper and started reading out loud.

Woman Sues Hospital for Malpractice

Eight patients were treated incorrectly for breast cancer, one of whom has stepped forward to press charges against St. Eugene’s Hospital and the lab technologist allegedly responsible for the incorrect result.

The hospital CEO wants to assure the public that standard procedure is being strictly followed and lab results can be trusted with confidence. However, he would not comment about the alleged errors. No names are being released at this time.

Patrick put the paper down. “Wow. Were you involved in this when you worked there?”

“You can say that. I was the whistleblower.”

“Babe, this is huge.” He rubbed his chin. “No wonder you didn’t want to go to St. Eugene’s last night. I’m really sorry.”

But that was only half of the reason I didn’t want to go to St. Eugene’s last night. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“How are you coping?”

“Fine. Now. But—”

“But what?”

“Last night, at St. Eugene’s, do you remember the woman we saw on our way out?”

“Yes, Victoria? Wait, did she have anything to do with it?” he asked.

My chest tightened. I stared transfixed at the newsprint as memories resurfaced.

“It’s her, the one you blew the whistle on, isn’t it?” Patrick said. “Damn.”

“After reporting her, they bullied me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. I was in constant fear, always watching my back.”

Patrick placed a hand on mine.

“But do you know what the worst part was? Friends who didn’t speak up. I know I had done the right thing, but I’d become ostracized.”

“Hey, I know you had a tough go of things back then but if it wasn’t for you, more people would have been hurt. You saved lives. You, June Harber, are a hero.”

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