Chapter 8: What Doreen Built
Three weeks later, Leah sat across a conference table from Nathan's attorney.
His name was Philip Greer.
He was sixty, careful, and had the particular stillness of a man who had spent decades watching other people make expensive mistakes.
He had been recommended to Nathan by someone other than Doreen — Leah had confirmed this through Carol before agreeing to the meeting.
Carol sat beside Leah.
Ellen sat on her other side, the small digital recorder in her coat pocket as it had been every day since the hospital.
On the table between them was a custody proposal.
Philip Greer had presented it twenty minutes ago.
He had walked through it without editorializing.
Leah had read every line.
"Nathan is proposing joint legal custody," Carol said, "with primary physical custody to Leah, and scheduled visitation for Nathan on alternating weekends and one evening per week.
He is also proposing to vacate the family home and transfer the mortgage to Leah's name, with a financial settlement to cover Thomas's care for the first three years."
"That's what the document says," Philip confirmed.
"It's a reasonable proposal," Carol said.
She looked at Leah.
Leah looked at the proposal.
"I have one condition," she said.
Philip Greer folded his hands.
"Go ahead."
"Doreen Carver is not to be present during any of Nathan's scheduled visitation with Thomas.
Not in the same home.
Not in the same vehicle.
Not at any location where visitation occurs." Leah kept her voice even.
"This is not negotiable."
Philip glanced at his notes.
"My client anticipated this condition.
He has agreed to it."
Leah looked up.
"He agreed to it before this meeting?" Carol asked.
"Yes." Philip Greer allowed himself a small, careful expression.
"Mr.
Carver has been — clarifying his priorities over the past three weeks."
Ellen made a quiet sound that was not quite a laugh.
"There is one additional matter," Philip said.
He opened a second folder.
"My client wishes to address the statement he signed on the morning of Thomas's birth.
He has provided a written retraction, signed and notarized, acknowledging that the statement contained false information and was prepared under pressure from a third party." He slid the document across the table.
"He is prepared to cooperate fully with any inquiry arising from that document."
Carol picked it up and read it.
Leah watched her face.
"This is complete," Carol said.
She set it down.
"And the third party named in the retraction is Doreen Carver?"
"It is," Philip said.
The room was quiet for a moment.
Leah thought about the supply room.
The cold metal shelving.
Thomas's tiny fists curled against his chest.
Doreen's voice through the wall, calm and certain, explaining to her son why his wife had no choice.
"What happens to her?" Leah asked.
Philip Greer looked at her steadily.
"The medical board complaint against Dr.
Rusk has resulted in a formal investigation.
Dr.
Rusk has provided a full statement to the board, including the name of the person who requested the notation and the manner in which it was requested.
That statement has been forwarded to the county attorney's office."
"Doreen."
"Yes." Philip paused.
"Additionally, Gerald Foss's office has filed a formal report with the state health authority regarding the misuse of the hospital's patient liaison office for personal purposes.
Doreen's advisory board seat is currently under review." He closed the folder.
"I am not in a position to predict outcomes.
But the county attorney's office does not typically receive referrals of this nature and decline to act on them."
Carol leaned slightly toward Leah.
"It means she's being investigated.
Formally."
Leah nodded.
She looked at the custody proposal again.
At Nathan's signature at the bottom, in the slightly uneven handwriting she had watched sign birthday cards and lease agreements and, once, a document full of things that had never happened.
"I'll sign," she said.
Carol slid the document in front of her.
Leah picked up the pen.
She thought of Doreen's heels in the corridor.
*This isn't over.* Said with absolute certainty, the way Doreen said everything.
May you like
Leah signed her name.
It was over.
