Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
MAGNOLIA
It took me a solid hour to come down after being that close to Bowen. When he had me pressed against the wall, I’d actually had the reckless thought that I wished he’d kiss me. Right there in the office, with Dr. Adam’s around the corner. I blamed it on his stupid eyes. I swear they were hypnotic.
Things were better after that. Topher walked around with his tail tucked between his legs, giving me dirty looks. But it was better than having him constantly stare at my chest or demand a password. The sabotage stopped too. No more flat tires or missing door signs.
But I almost wished Bowen hadn’t helped me.
It was hard to dislike someone who made an idiot of himself—shouting robot nonsense—just to get you through a door. Even harder when he looked at you like you’re the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Over the next few days, my thoughts raced out of control.
Maybe he’s different now. Maybe he’s changed.
People don’t change. Not really.
That’s not true. You know it’s not. Maybe he regrets the Nova thing.
No! It’s not just the Nova thing. It’s a pattern of behavior. The man is a walking red flag.
But you had that feeling the first night you met him.
Obviously, I was mistaken. Caught up in the moment. Or more likely, it wasn’t a feeling at all. It was a bad case of heartburn.
My history with Bowen had taught me to keep my walls high and my expectations low.
I’d become a master at pretending I didn’t care.
Spoiler: I did. My brain could be deep in a patient chart, but one “Hey, Bowen!” from the crew and I’d perk up like a fool.
His voice made my pulse jump. And when he left the building, I counted the minutes till he came back.
Two days later, when he let me know he’d be gone for the rest of the day working at another job site, it was actually a relief. I could finally focus. It was a good thing he left, or I might not have been on top of what happened later that afternoon.
I was assisting Dr. Adams with charting his previous appointment when Nurse Betsy came bustling up.
“Sage Dupree is in room one,” she said under her breath. “Eight months pregnant, complaining of shortness of breath, feeling faint.”
Dr. Adams didn’t even look up from the computer. “How many times do I have to say ‘no Duprees’ before people start listening? Why didn’t she head to her OB? Or the ER?”
Betsy gave me a look but spoke to Billy. “She didn’t want to be seen at all. She doesn’t think it’s a big deal. Says she feels faint a lot because of her Vasovagal Syncope. But James is concerned. She came just to make him happy.”
Dr. Adams’ forehead furrowed. “Markson sees anyone with the last name Dupree if they even show up here. You know that.”
Just then, a toddler screamed bloody murder in exam room four.
“Betsy!” Physician’s Assistant Markson called.
Betsy hurried off to assist and Dr. Adams scowled.
“I’m happy to get Sage’s vitals, if that helps,” I said
He sighed. “Please. I’ll be there in a minute.”
As I crossed the room, I didn’t let myself doom spiral about whether or not James and Sage hated me now.
I knocked lightly and peeked my head in. Sage sat on the exam table, legs dangling over the side, face pale, bangs matted to her forehead. Oh, that wasn’t good. James stood next to her, holding her hand.
“Hey, guys,” I said.
“Hey, Maggie.” James’s eyes brightened, and I could almost believe he was happy to see me. “I didn’t know you worked here now.”
So Bowen hadn’t told anyone I was here. Wow. Well, that explained why Charlie hadn’t reached out. I’d thought she just didn’t care.
“I’m just on my family medicine rotation.” I smiled.
“Hey, Sage,” I said. “I’m here to take your vitals, if that’s okay?”
“Hi,” she said weakly. “That’s fine.”
James chuckled nervously. “She was brushing her hair and nearly fainted.”
“It’s just vasovagal stuff.” She gazed up at him, reassurance in her voice. These two had always been so sweet with each other, treating their relationship like fragile glass. “Baby girl likes to tap dance against my lungs from time to time. That’s all.”
But one look at James told me he didn’t agree.
I patted Sage’s knee. “You’re probably right. Still, let’s check your blood pressure and listen to your heart and baby girl—just to be sure.”
She nodded. “Sure.”
“Are you all ready for her?” I asked. “Got the nursery painted?”
James ran a hand over his hair. “Not as ready as we’d like to be. The house still isn’t finished. Still have to mud and tape. We wanted to have it done by the time Willow arrived.”
I smiled. “Willow? I love that name.”
“We were hoping to buy the house from Theo,” Sage said, lips pressed together.
James dragged a hand through his hair. “Pretty much.”
“We didn’t mean to get pregnant yet,” Sage admitted, cheeks flushed like she was embarrassed about that. “And now we’re going to be stuck raising a baby with Theo still living there.”
I reached for the blood pressure cart. “You guys don’t like living with him?”
James laughed. “Sage was over it the night we got home from our honeymoon. Theo wakes us up every fifteen minutes until three a.m., screaming at whoever he’s playing with online.”
I snickered. “I remember the screaming.” Theo didn’t know how to play a video game quietly. He played with his whole heart and both lungs. It didn’t matter how many times you reminded him to be quiet. He forgot five minutes later.
“And he keeps popping the lock—bursting in to tell James some interesting fact—when James and I are…” She hid her face and laughed.
“That’s…unfortunate.” I grinned and reached for the blood pressure cuff.
“And awkward,” James snorted.
Sage knew the drill and obediently held her arm out. Her blood pressure was normal, not low—the opposite of what you’d expect from someone with vasovagal syncope. Especially if she was sweating as profusely as she currently was.
Huh.
I pulled the stethoscope from around my neck.
James was done with polite conversation, apparently. He squeezed Sage’s hand. “This is the third time she’s almost fainted this month. Something feels…I dunno…off?”
I nodded, popped the earpieces in, and pressed the bell of the stethoscope to Sage’s chest. Her heartbeat was fast, but that was normal this far in a pregnancy. But then she shifted and—
There was something underneath the rhythm.
If I hadn’t been such a self-taught overachiever, no doubt I would’ve missed it. But all the late nights I’d spent on medical education apps had trained me to listen beyond the norm.
And this heartbeat was definitely not normal.
It wasn’t a soft whoosh, like the harmless murmurs sometimes heard in pregnant women.
This was harsher. Louder. Like wind being pushed through a too-narrow tunnel.
It had a shape to it — started soft, then built to a peak, then faded again.
Almost like a wave rising and crashing. And it was exactly where I didn’t want to hear it — along the left side of her breastbone.
I moved the stethoscope to double-check. Still there. I could feel James studying my every micro-twinge.
I gave them both a smile. “Hey, Sage, would you mind standing up for a second?”
“Sure.” She reached for James to help. “It’s not easy when you feel like you’ve swallowed an entire watermelon.”
Please let me be wrong, I prayed.
Once she was standing, I listened again. It was even louder now. Sharper. Like someone had turned the volume up. That wasn’t vasovagal. No way.
And though I wished I didn’t, I knew exactly what it was. How had no one picked up on it before?
But I already knew the answer. Pregnancy cranked up blood volume and cardiac output, especially this far along, which could make murmurs and abnormalities more pronounced. Being eight months pregnant meant her heart was working overtime, and whatever was hiding in there? It wasn’t hiding anymore.
I pulled the stethoscope away and swallowed, the sound still ringing in my ears. I suspected it would still be ringing as I tried to fall asleep tonight.
James’s eyebrow arched. “Everything okay?”
I ran a hand over my forehead. What I really wanted was to ask who her doctor had been growing up. But she’d grown up in this town, and I was ninety-nine percent sure I already knew.
I’d never been so grateful it wasn’t my job to deliver a diagnosis. My job was to convince a man with an ego the size of the hospital that he’d missed something huge, without making him defensive. It was going to be awkward, maybe even ugly, but I had to do it for Sage.
I settled my stethoscope around my neck. “I’m going to grab Dr. Adams really quickly. I’ll be right back.” I slipped out of the room.
Dr. Adams was just standing up, his posture making it clear that seeing a Dupree—any Dupree—was the last thing he wanted to do today.
“Dr. Adams?” I hurried toward him, voice low. “I think Sage Dupree has been misdiagnosed with vasovagal syncope.”
“Is that so?” He folded his arms smugly. “I was her pediatrician, so tread carefully.”
Just as I suspected. I forced myself not to flinch.
Doctors missed things all the time. But I had no idea how he’d missed something this big.
“Yes, sir,” I said respectfully, knowing full well how pretentious this sounded coming from a med student.
“I mean, I’m no expert, but…” I chewed my lip, staring at the floor, hating how this was going to rock the Duprees' world if I was correct.
“I’m listening,” Dr. Adams said, tone cool and condescending, as if the idea I’d caught something he’d missed was laughable.
“I suspect that she has hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.” It was as serious as it sounds. A genetic heart disorder that causes the heart muscle to thicken. If unchecked, it blocks blood flow, eventually causing sudden cardiac death, even in young, healthy people.
He sighed. “Go on.”
So I told him about what I’d just heard. It seemed like he was actually listening, which is probably more than most doctors would’ve done. By the time I was done, he looked less sure of himself.
He peeled the stethoscope from around his neck, a look in his eyes that said he did not want to do this. “Let’s go.” He tipped his head for me to follow him back into the room.
Three minutes later, after Dr. Adams delivered an impressive round of small talk—no trace of disdain for the Duprees—he pressed the stethoscope to Sage’s back, listened, adjusted, and listened again before moving to her front.
After another sixty seconds, he sat down on the rolling chair and smiled like nothing in the world was wrong. “Well, it’s good that James insisted you come in. Your husband has good instincts.”
James blinked, shocked at the compliment.
“We’re hearing a murmur,” Dr. Adams continued. “And I’d like to have a cardiologist check it out.”
My heart dropped. I really was hoping I was wrong.
“Should we be worried?” James asked.
Yes!
“Worrying never fixed anything,” Dr. Adams said nonchalantly.
“But because of the pregnancy, I would like you to head straight to cardiology to see Dr. Fischer over at Honeyville Regional. Just to be sure.” He smiled.
“Hang tight. We’ll call and make sure they can see you right now.
Nurse Betsy will be back in to give you more instructions. ”
He gestured for me to step out of the room first. Once we were in the hall, he pulled the door shut behind him. I followed him fifteen feet away.
He whirled to face me.
And swore.