Page 15 of Hidden Truths

Why not? Why had she gone so quickly, so completely?

Because she had died in a state of grace, doing good. She had saved Baby Joy. That little girl would survive to fight for her life.

Dr. Davis didn’t know, not yet. When he entered the room, he spoke to Nurse Bernice. “Did you hear about the security video they got of that monster of a father who was smothering his daughter so he could get attention?”

“Did they get him?”

“They sure did. The little girl’s in protective custody and he’s under arrest. But that’s not the great part about the video.”

Nurse Bernice looked up from her charts. “What?”

“He’s got the poor little girl under the pillow, leaning all his weight on her. Everyone thinks this time he was going to kill her. The kid is fighting like crazy—and all over a sudden the IV pole goes flying.” Dr. Davis grinned in fiendish delight.

“What do you mean, it goes flying?” Nurse Bernice was listening, but not paying attention.

“It looks like something knocked into it, knocked it over. It hit the floor. The bottle shattered. It was a mess, but it distracted him before he could do worse.”

Nurse Bernice looked up. “So he bumped it with his foot?”

“You watch the video. There’s no one anywhere near that IV pole.”

Nurse Bernice got what he was not saying. “Oh, comeon.”

“Watch the video, you pagan. It’ll make you a believer.”

“In ghosts?”

“What better place than a hospital?”

Kellen gloated. She might be a ghost, but she had made a difference. “You might want to speak to Mrs. Hibbert,” she told them.

Nurse Bernice raised her voice. “Mrs. Hibbert? How’s it going over there? Ready to be relieved?” She frowned, stood and walked over to the rocking chair. “Mrs. Hibbert?”

The old lady had died, having lived her life well. Her final gift was to Baby Joy, who would survive and thrive.

How lovely.

Kellen left the nursery, rode on the ribbons of emotion and found herself by the busy nurses’ station near her room. Her surgeon, Dr. Clift, was there, cursing the paperwork as he filled it out.

A silence fell that had him lifting his head.

Harrison Benchley was approaching, returning from physical therapy to his room.

Everyone watched him, but most of all, the woman at the corner of the broad counter watched him, as she always did. She wore the same surgical scrubs she had before, wore the same mask over her face. She disguised herself so she could observe Harrison as he made his daily trek.

But why did she bother? He never looked. He never noticed.

“Who is she? Why is she doing this?” Kellen had no real voice.

But Dr. Clift was more than willing to ask Kellen’s question. He must have been wondering himself. He laid a hand on the woman’s arm. “Megan, why? It’s been months now. He never looks around. He doesn’t care about anybody or anything. The man you married died in that wreck, and this Harrison was born. He rejected you. Why do you keep doing this day after day?”

Megan never took her gaze from Harrison, and she whispered so he couldn’t hear her voice. “He’s the best man I ever met.”

One of the nurses snorted. “He’s rude. He’s indifferent. He’s worked with Diane every day for almost a year. She’s out sick, he got a different physical therapist, and he never even asked about her.” She gripped the pen hard enough to hurt her own fingers.

Harrison went into his room.

The door shut behind him.

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