Dr. Singh's Questions
Chapter 03 - Dr. Singh's Questions
Dr. Amara Singh, the attending physician at Riverside Memorial, met Adrian in the emergency department's family waiting area with the specific, careful composure of a doctor who had delivered difficult news many times and understood exactly how much of it a person could absorb in a single conversation.
"Your wife is stable," she said, and watched Adrian's entire body release a tension it had apparently been holding since the ambulance ride. "She's lost a significant amount of blood, and we've started a transfusion. The pregnancy is intact, which is something we're monitoring very closely given the circumstances."
"What happened to her," Adrian asked, voice still unsteady.
"That's what I need to discuss with you," Dr. Singh said, her expression shifting slightly, a specific, professional wariness entering her gaze. "The blood work we ran as part of the initial assessment flagged something I wasn't expecting. A substance in her system that shouldn't be there."
Adrian stared at her. "What kind of substance."
"A compound that's known to cause exactly the kind of hemorrhagic response we're seeing," Dr. Singh said carefully. "It's not something she would have ingested accidentally, and it's not something that occurs naturally in any food or medication she might have taken at a wedding reception."
"You're saying someone gave her something," Adrian said slowly, the specific, cold understanding of that sentence settling over him. "Deliberately."
"I'm saying her blood work is inconsistent with any natural cause for this kind of bleeding," Dr. Singh said. "I'm required, given these findings, to notify the police. I want you to understand that's a medical and legal obligation, not a suggestion."
Eleanor arrived at the hospital twenty minutes later, finding Adrian sitting alone in the waiting area, the pregnancy test still in her hand, her usual composure entirely absent.
"She's stable," Adrian told her immediately. "The baby's okay for now."
Eleanor sat down heavily. "Thank God."
"There's something else," Adrian said. "The doctor found something in her blood. Something that shouldn't be there. They think someone did this to her on purpose, Mom."
Eleanor's face went through a complicated series of expressions, shock giving way to confusion, confusion to a specific, dawning horror that carried underneath it something Adrian recognized, with a sudden, uncomfortable clarity, as guilt.
"I walked into that room ready to hit her with a stick," Eleanor said quietly. "I was furious at her for sleeping late. I was going to scold her, on the first morning of her marriage, for not being up early enough to meet my standards."
"Mom—"
"If I'd decided not to bother checking on her," Eleanor continued, voice barely audible now. "If I'd been angry enough to simply leave her alone all morning. She could have bled out in that bed, Adrian. While I sat downstairs judging her for being lazy."
May you like
Adrian reached for his mother's hand, understanding that whatever complicated feelings he carried about Eleanor's treatment of Lila over the past six months, this particular moment required grace rather than accountability.
"You did check," he said. "That's what matters right now."
