time to tell you about her, Nathan. How she has a dry, wry sense of humor. How she’s silly when she’s drunk. How she sleeps splayed out like a starfish. So many things. But there isn’t time. And, that’s what the story is for. What the cabins are for.
Redemption’s Song is for you, Nathan. Read it, and hear my final song.
The End,
Adrian
I open the book. No copyright page, no contents, no dedication. Just…chapter one, page one. He had this printed himself, just one copy.
I shut the book and hold it, stare at the cover.
I wonder what Adrian’s game was. A cabin in the woods, a book, and a few somewhat cryptic notes.
We were friends, yes. Even good friends.
But what any of it means, I don’t know.
I suppose I’ll find out.
Letters From the Dead, Part Two
“Nadia, can I see you in my office, please?” Dr. Wilson breezes past me as he speaks, white coat flapping behind him, green scrubs flashing under it, stethoscope and pens and pager and ID badge arranged on his person like armor.
“Uh, yes, sir. Right now?”
“Yeah.” His office is around the corner, and I follow him there. We enter, he takes his chair and I perch on the edge of one of the hard plastic ones stolen from the waiting room. “Would you like some coffee?” He gestures to a Keurig on a filing cabinet.
“No, thank you.”
“Sure? You look tired.”
I laugh. “I’m off soon. If I have coffee now, I won’t sleep.”
He snorts. “After enough years of pulling crazy hours, you get to the point where coffee stops affecting you that way.”
I nod. “I know.” I pause. “So, what’s up, Doc?”
He rolls his eyes. “Didn’t take you for a Bugs Bunny fan.” He leans back in his chair, eyes on mine. “I’m worried about you, to be blunt.”
“I’m fine, sir.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t ‘sir’ me, Nadia. I’ve been your boss for how many years now? And, I hope, something like a friend. You’ve worked seven days a week for a year now. I’ve let it go, because your work speaks for itself. I can’t stop you from working too much. Hell, I work too much myself. But…I am growing concerned.”
“Did Tess put you up to this?”
“No, she didn’t. I am putting myself up to this.” He hesitates. “I can’t presume to know what you’ve gone through—”
“Then don’t,” I interrupt. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He sighs, leans forward. “You know, before I went into medicine, I almost became a psychiatrist. I’m also an astute judge of people. You have to be, running a department like this. I know you need a distraction. I know you need to keep busy. I know. I get it as well as anyone who hasn’t been through what you’ve been through can understand.”
I clench my jaw. I have to bite back words—all of them bitter, four-lettered. I’m short-tempered, bitter. I know it’s from working too much. But it’s not just that. It’s me, now.
“What are you saying, Alan?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, honestly. You need more than a day off. I could cut your hours, I could do a lot of things. I am your boss. But…I suppose I wanted to express my concern. You’re pushing yourself to exhaustion, Nadia. Beyond it.” He wipes his face. “You nearly overdosed a patient, Nadia. Lydia caught it. A couple milligrams too much, nothing fatal, but still.”
I feel the blood run out of my face. “I…what? Who?”
“Deckard, 217.”
I think back. I’d been in a hurry, rushing to get the medication dosed so I could get to 214—and then an alarm had gone off, someone had coded. I must have…
Shit.
And suddenly, I’m not angry.
I’m scared.
“Don’t come in tomorrow. Not this department, not any department.”
“Am I…are you firing me?”
“No. I’m not doing anything official. It was caught before the dose left the nursing station. It’s not going on your record, which is up until now, perfect. And it’s going to stay that way. You’re going home, now. And you’re going to think very hard about what’s best for your patients. Because what you’re doing is…deeply unhealthy. As your friend and coworker, I’m concerned, and as your boss, I’m concerned. Just on a human level. Everyone sees it. We’re all worried.”
I nod. Put my face in my hands. “I’m sorry.” I heave a sigh. Work to contain myself. “Tell…tell Lydia I’m sorry.”
He looks like he’s going to say something else, but his jaw clicks closed. Opens again. “Go home, Nadia. Rest. Do some soul searching.”
I nod again. Rise. Feeling