Page 59 of The Vegas Rerun
“Are you family?” she asks.
“No,” I admit. “She was injured at work earlier today, brought in by an ambulance. I’m her boss. I just want to see her and make sure she’s ok.”
“I can’t promise they’ll let you see her if you’re not family,” the receptionist says. “But give me a second and I’ll tell you where to find her.”
That’s fine. I’m sure if Molly is awake that she will see me.
“Thank you,” I say.
She glances at me looking surprised. She’s probably more used to getting abuse than thanks. She turns her focus back to the monitor, and once again her fingers click across the keys.
“She was in room 304 B,” she says, then she frowns as she reads on. “But she’s not in there now. Let me see. Oh. It seems that she’s not here anymore.”
“What do you mean?” I lean forward. “Did she get moved to a different hospital?”
“No. She’s been discharged.”
I blink, surprised to hear that.
“She’s gone home already?” I clarify.
“Yes,” the receptionist says, nodding her head. “She was discharged about half an hour after she was admitted. It says here she signed herself out early. AMA.”
“Against medical advice?” I ask.
She nods.
“It happens sometimes,” she says. “According to this, the doctors wanted to monitor her to make sure she was ok which is standard practice with a head injury, but all of her x-rays and tests came back normal, and she insisted she had to leave.”
I take a step back. The hallway behind me spins a little. If she was discharged half an hour after she was admitted, that means she probably left while I was still watching the footage of what happened, still uncovering the truth.
Why would she leave? I hope it’s not because she thought I wasn’t coming, that I didn’t care. No, she wouldn’t have left because of that. I don’t have that much power over her.
I can’t understand why she would leave against medical advice though. What’s so important at home that it couldn’t wait a day. If she has a cat or a dog or something that needed takingcare of, doesn’t she know she could have called me, and I would have taken care of it for her.
I thank the receptionist again and then I walk away before she can ask any more questions. My mind is already ten steps ahead, reaching, grasping, trying to make sense of it.
Maybe she discharged herself because she just didn’t want to be there. Maybe she was scared. Some people have serious phobias of hospitals. Or maybe she just didn’t want to be found.
If that’s the case, she’s going to be very disappointed, because I’m not going to let a little thing like her no longer being in the hospital stop me from finding her. I just need to know that she’s ok, and after that, if she wants me to leave, I will.
Also, I feel like I need to look her in the eyes and apologize for all the so called mistakes I blamed her for that weren’t her fault. And I need to tell her that I know it was all Sarah and that she’s gone and she’s never coming back. That I’m sorry I let her down, but I will keep her safe now.
By the time I’m in the parking lot it has started to the rain. It’s not a full-on down pour. It’s that light, misty, type of rain, not enough to soak me through, but enough to chill me. I slide into the driver’s seat, the door groaning as I shut it behind me.
I pull my cell phone out and find Molly’s name in my contacts. I hit call next to her name and watch the call connect, but it goes straight to her voicemail. Dammit. I debate sending her a text message, but it’s too easy for her to say no to seeing me on a text so I decide against it.
I’m going to have to go to her apartment. I picked her up for the christening, so I know which building she lives in. But I don’t know which apartment. Fuck. I suppose I could ring every bell until I find her but doing that tends to piss people off and I really don’t want Molly’s neighbors to be pissed off with her because of me on top of everything else.
What should I do? What should I do? The thought creeps in before I can stop it. I could check her file.
I know I shouldn’t. It’s a line I most definitely shouldn’t be even thinking about crossing. But today has been nothing but crossed lines, broken rules, and decisions made from trusting my gut instead of following the company policy.
She’s not answering her phone. She hasn’t called anyone at work. The hospital can’t help me. And I refuse to sit around doing nothing. My mind is made up.
I start my car engine and leave the parking lot. The drive back to the office is slower than the one to the hospital and I’m getting more and more impatient with every minute that passes. I finally reach the office parking lot and park back in my parking spot.
Back at the office, I slip in the back entrance, cross the lobby and go straight up to the HR department. No one stops me as I enter the room. The floor is quiet, people buried in their tasks, unsure what the hell happened this morning. It’s not until I’m at the filing cabinet that one of the HR reps, Linda, comes up to me.
