Page 91 of The Hanging Dolls
“She had an electrolyte imbalance. We treated her but we found diuretic in her system. Her mother said Lily had accidentally consumed them but…” His voice trailed off.
“But what?”
“Something felt wrong. I don’t know what. Call it an instinct but it just felt off.”
“How?”
His hand clasped the railing of the staircase to balance himself. “It just reminded me of something that happened a long time ago, kid. I’m seventy-four years old. I’ve seen a lot of things in this hospital.”
“What was it?” she pressed, softening her voice.
Horror crossed his face. “It was over forty years ago. I was in residency. But there was a case that I was on. Two kids presented on different occasions with symptoms ranging from hallucinations and mood swings to diarrhea and respiratory distress. Although of varying ages, they were all under ten years old. It raised a red flag because they were siblings. It made me suspect that something was happening in their home.”
“Munchausen by proxy.”
He nodded grimly. “I talked to the doctor in charge and she agreed. There was enough evidence for us to call the authorities.”
“And did you?”
“We did.” His voice cracked and he coughed like a broken engine until Zoe had to pat his back to soothe him. “We shouldn’t have.”
“Why?”
“Because they were found dead, hanging from the ceiling. The parents killed them as soon as they realized that they were being investigated.”
Zoe was stunned. The image tried to force itself into her head but she pushed it away, erecting a giant wall around her sanity. “Theykilledthem.”
“Maybe that’s why somewhere along the line I stopped questioning as much. Maybe subconsciously I look away whenI shouldn’t.” Parsons’s lips quivered. “Did I fail Lily? Should I have reported that? Would she still be alive if I had?”
She touched his arm lightly and lied. “No, there’s nothing you could have done.”
He seemed to believe it, perhaps it was easier that way. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his forehead as pink spots dotted all over his skin.
“Who knows about that story?” Zoe asked.
“A lot of people. Almost everyone in the hospital at the time. People talk. I probably told some of my friends and family about it over the years.”
“Is there anyone who has been asking about this or Munchausen syndrome lately?”
He shrugged helplessly. “Not that I know of. It’s been a while since I recounted this story. Not an easy thing to talk about.”
When his pager started beeping, he excused himself, almost bumping into a bonsai tree on his way. Zoe watched his aged, frail frame disappear around the corner, taking away the hope that was barely flickering inside her.
Her mind raced. Lily’s and Lucy’s paths intersected at this very hospital. She scanned the workers around her—not just doctors and nurses but also janitors and administrative staff. These were the people who saw death every day, watched families get ripped apart, heard soul-shredding tears. Zoe knew the discipline it took to keep the ugliness of the world at bay. How it spread like a nasty infection, killing morals first and empathy next.
Or maybe it was another patient. Someone who had come into the hospital to get treated for hereditary hemochromatosis.
Zoe got a call from Aiden. “Any news?”
“Terri tracked down the buyer of that toy from the seller on eBay. It’s Connor, Regina’s campaign manager.”
FIFTY-ONE
“You’ve been a little different these past couple of sessions,” Aiden noted.
She shrugged. “I… don’t think so.”
They stared at each other. A battle of his scrutinizing gaze and her rehearsed cheerfulness.
