20
Elijah sat in Angela’s kitchen with Sheila, and every second felt like an eternity. There was no class in medical school that had trained him for something like this, no textbook chapter that explained what to say when you’ve been caught trespassing in your patient’s house by her sister.
Elijah stole a glance at Sheila, who was staring at him. Her eyes narrowed.
“So, you’re a medical student,” she said flatly.
“Yes, I go to—”
“I didn’t ask,” she interrupted. “You’re a medical student who decided to… what, exactly?”
Elijah sighed.
“I really shouldn’t disclose any of her health information. It’s, like, illegal.”
“More illegal than breaking and entering?”
“The door was unlocked,” he protested quietly. He knew that it would do him no good. He’d crossed a line, and he knew it. He should’ve just… well, he didn’t know what he should’ve done. His fate felt so final—so inevitable—that it was impossible to imagine things having gone any other way.
It was the penicillin. That was the moment he fell from grace. The moment that he could never undo, the moment for which he’d have to atone, one way or another.
He thought of Dr. Leonard and felt a pang of dread. What would he say if he found out what Elijah had done?
The sound of Sheila’s voice interrupted his ruminations. “Are you okay?” she said, as if threatening him with her concern.
Elijah sat in silence, unable to respond. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked him that. He had no friends in the oldest town in the county. Everyone else his age had found a way to escape. They had moved to the next town over, or the town over from that, or across the country. All at once, he was struck by how lonely he felt. Tears began to fill his eyes.
That’s when he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs outside.
“That’ll be Angela,” Sheila said.
Elijah stared at the door, saying nothing as it swung open.
Angela walked in, her expression difficult to place. She looked calm enough. And then she saw Elijah. A little crease appeared on her forehead as her eyebrows furrowed over her wide eyes. She looked at Elijah, then at Sheila, then at the chickens, who were idly strutting around.
“What are you doing here?” she said.
Elijah stood up, his chair screeching against the linoleum floor. “I was worried about you, so I came to check on you.”
Angela stared at him.
“Why were you worried?” she said slowly.
“I…” he stammered. “I don’t know. I didn’t know if—if the new medication was working or not….”
“Do you have a reason to think it wouldn’t be working?” Angela said.
“No, of course not! I just—”
“Because I do,” Angela said.
Elijah felt his heart flutter.
“What?”
“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Sheila said.
“You didn’t tell her?” Angela said to Elijah.
“I’m not supposed to share your medical—”
“I had a pimple on my finger, and it was freaking me out, so I went to Dr. Leonard’s, and this kid gave me pills, but they didn’t work, so I went back, and they gave me different pills.”
“Is it serious?” Sheila said.
Angela continued, “And he didn’t tell the doctor that he gave me the pills, so now he’s roped me into this lie—”
“And the new pills aren’t working either?” Sheila said, interrupting her.
“Well, that’s why I went to the farm,” Angela said. “I had this suspicion that… I don’t know. I—”
“What does the farm have to do with your any of this?” Sheila said.
"What farm?” Elijah said.
“Well, that’s—”
“Let me see your finger,” Sheila interrupted.
Angela walked over to Sheila slowly, carrying her right hand in her left like a wounded bird.
Sheila let out a shriek when she saw it.
“My God!”
Elijah looked at her finger. It had gotten worse. The pimple had turned black in the center, and the rest of her finger was swollen and red. A wave of nausea bloomed inside Elijah’s stomach.
“I know,” Angela said, looking at it.
“Do you have a bathroom?” Elijah said.
Angela and Sheila simultaneously pointed in the same direction.
Elijah stood up, said “Excuse me,” and hurried out of the kitchen.
He went into the bathroom, closed the door, and threw up in the toilet.
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