4 - HAVEN
Lacey
The hospital corridors always smelled the same, antiseptic laced with the burnt edge of coffee drifting from the break room.
I swiped my badge at the pediatric wing entrance and walked to my office on the third floor.
I had the kind of reputation that brought me the hardest cases.
Most days I earned it, but today my mind kept slipping back to Janice's words.
I dropped my bag, logged into the charting system, and scanned my afternoon schedule. Aiden first, then Emma. Jessica Harrington at two-fifteen.
Aiden was waiting with his mom, Sarah. Eight years old and six months post-ventricular septal defect repair. He sat on the table swinging his legs, a toy car clutched in his fist.
"Hey, champ," I said, crouching so we were eye to eye. "Ready to let me listen to that superhero heart?"
He nodded solemnly.
I slid my stethoscope under his shirt. Strong heart sounds, no murmur. Clean. I pulled up last week's echo. "Patch is solid. Blood flow's perfect. You can keep playing soccer with your team, just no headers for a while longer, okay?"
Sarah exhaled like she'd been holding her breath since surgery. "He's really okay?"
"He's great," I told her, smiling at Aiden. "See you in six months, buddy."
They left looking lighter.
Emma was next. Five years old with mild aortic stenosis. Her parents arrived with their spreadsheet, heart rates logged minute by minute during dance class. I respected the thoroughness, even when it felt like they were trying to out-diagnose me.
I examined her, listened closely, and took her to the echo room. "Valve's holding nice and steady." I pointed at the still frame. "No progression. She can stay in dance without limitations. Just watch for fatigue. If she's huffing hard after ten minutes, slow her down and call me."
Emma's mom hesitated. "We read about a balloon surgery online."
I met her eyes gently. "I've done dozens of those procedures. If it were time, I'd tell you. Right now it's not. Trust me on this one. I'll see you in one year."
Next, Jessica Harrington. I reviewed her chart beforehand.
Tetralogy of Fallot, surgically repaired at four months, but still with a small hole between the ventricles, reducing her blood oxygenation.
Worse, the scar from the surgery interferes with her conduction, making her heart rhythm unstable.
Now four years old, Jessica had been my first patient as an attending physician.
I had been warned as a pediatric fellow not to allow myself to become attached to my patients, but Jessica found a special place in my heart that I hadn't planned to give her.
Her father, Derek, had been a large and quietly intimidating presence.
Her mother, Pamela, on the other hand, had been a real treat.
She had been smart, funny, and vivacious.
She reported breast lumps right after Jessica was born, but her Ob/Gyn had brushed it off, assuring her they were normal changes post-partum.
By the time the diagnosis was made, months later, it was too late.
The cancer had spread and she was gone right after Jessica's first birthday.
Derek had been devastated, then furious.
He was wealthy and he donated his way onto the board and made no bones about the fact that he blamed us for incompetence.
By the time he had become Chair of the Board of Directors, he had purged the hospital of Pamela's physician, and the director of the Ob/Gyn department.
But I was a rising star in the small hospital.
Pamela had trusted me and made Derek promise to let me take care of little Jessica. He did, but sometimes only grudgingly.
Jessica burst into the exam room, ponytail flying. "Dr. Lacey!"
I knelt and let her hug me tight. Strawberry shampoo, crayons, pure sunshine. "Hey, superstar. Got something for me today?"
She pulled a folded paper from her backpack, a crayon heart with wings and a stethoscope. "It's you fixing hearts."
I pinned it next to the others on my bulletin board and felt the familiar tightness in my chest. "It's perfect. Up on the table, kiddo."
Derek Harrington filled the doorway. Dark hair silvering at the temples, broad shoulders under a navy sweater, slate-gray eyes moving across the room the way I imagined a soldier would.
Every time he was nearby, I had the reaction I had fought all my life.
"Bonds," he said, last name only.
"Mr. Harrington." I kept my eyes on Jessica's chart, then turned back to her.
"She's been good," he said, settling into the chair like he owned it. "More energy. Short hikes on weekends. Building stamina."
I nodded, stethoscope already moving to Jessica's chest. Regular rhythm, no extra sounds. "Sats ninety-four. Let's get our echo."
In the ultrasound room, Jessica lay still while I worked the probe. No worsening, but still not where I wanted it.
Derek leaned forward, eyes locked on mine with that focused unyielding attention he brought to everything involving his daughter. "About activity. I'm signing her up for soccer. Recreational league, nothing intense. She needs to move more. The literature supports exercise training programs."
My stomach did its familiar clench. "I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Harrington.
Her rhythm is more unstable than I'm comfortable signing off on for sports yet.
Sudden sprints could stress her heart. Fatigue, irregular rhythms, or worse.
Walking, swimming, light play are fine. Soccer is too much running. "
He exhaled through his nose, half sigh and half something else. "She's not made of glass, Bonds. I've read the studies."
I felt myself tense. "Moderate aerobic exercise is beneficial, yes, but it has to be individualized. One more monitor, clean results, then we can talk light soccer."
Jessica looked between us. "Am I in trouble?"
I squeezed her hand. "Not even a little, sweetie. Your dad and I are just making sure you can run circles around everyone eventually."
Derek's jaw tightened. Then he watched me with Jessica, and his face seemed to soften. "You always win these arguments with the kid card, don't you?"
My quiet laugh sounded nervous in my ears. "The kid card is pretty unbeatable when the kid is this cute."
He tilted his head, leaning slightly forward. "You're killing me here, Bonds. She's got energy to burn and I'm the one who has to explain why she can't play with the other kids."
"You can be the fun dad who promises ice cream after every appointment," I said, quieter now, careful to keep it light for Jessica's sake. "I get to be the cautious one who says not yet."
He rubbed a hand over his jaw. His eyes dropped to my mouth for half a second before coming back up.
The soft pulse shocked me.
I looked back at the echo screen.
"You're enjoying telling me 'no' a little too much," he said.
"I'm not enjoying it at all. I'd love for Jessica to run straight up mountains." I kept my voice professional. "She just can't yet."
A slow reluctant grin pulled at one corner of his mouth. "Fair. But if I out-donate everyone, does that give me veto power?" As he said that he reached down and started adjusting Jessica's already perfect ponytail.
I managed a small laugh, more from nerves than amusement. "We always appreciate your support. But you pay me to give you medical advice. For now you're stuck with it."
"Lucky me," he said, still perfecting Jessica's hair.
Jessica giggled. "Dr. Lacey wins!"
Derek shook his head slowly. "She's impossible, Jess."
He studied me for a moment, eyes unreadable, then nodded once. "Fine. No soccer. Yet. But being overprotective can hurt a kid just as much as pushing too hard."
"I know," I said. "It's a balance I think about carefully."
Jessica started shaking her head. "Daddy, stop."
Derek blinked, then said, "Okay, it's good now."
Then he looked at me. "Bonds, I have a really important question for you." Then he looked at Jessica. "Tiger, are you listening?"
Jessica looked up and nodded, seriously.
"Doc, we really need to know. Can worms hear?" He said it dead serious.
I stood for a second with a totally blank mind. Worms? Hear? What does that have—ah.
I looked down. "So worms don't have ears, Jessica, but they can feel vibrations so they know when someone is walking. That's a lot like hearing."
Her face said nope, that's not gonna work. "What's virtashuns?"
Derek chuckled and grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her. "Like this. The worm gets moved around and feels it."
Jessica beamed and looked at her dad. "See? I knew Dr. Lacey would know! She knows everything!"
Jessica hopped off the table. "Ice cream time!"
His mouth twitched. "Yeah, kid. Ice cream."
They headed for the door.
Jessica waved. "Bye, Dr. Lacey!"
Derek paused in the doorway, filling it. "Thanks. Even when you're being a pain in my ass." He patted my arm, a little too hard, like he hadn't calibrated his own strength or didn't feel the need to.
The door closed.
I leaned back against the counter and exhaled. The spot on my arm still held a small dull ache. Otherwise I might have been charmed, for Pete's sake.
Derek Harrington. Or as Janice said, "Derek Fucking Harrington." He was impossible. Stubborn. And convinced his money and his research made him the expert in a room with me. I wasn't going to be charmed.