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"Let's get back to Dr. Prescott. Why did she come to the bar?" Tyler asked, repeating his earlier question.

"Megan and I became friends. After she helped me get into the program, which I was only able to afford because she got me a huge discount, she'd come into the bar to hang out. She was divorced and lonely. I was new to the city. We hung out together. But the last time she came, she was different. She tried to talk me out of going back to the clinic. They were about to check me for the longer, inpatient study, and she didn't think it was a good idea. She said she'd read my chart, and there wasn't a significant amount of improvement, and she didn't want to see me waste my time or my money. She thought I should go somewhere else."

Rachel was surprised that Dr. Prescott had suddenly had second thoughts.

"I told her there was no way I was stopping," Jack continued. "I'd had three rounds of the intensive outpatient therapy, and I felt better after it. She said that was only temporary and in the long run, things might get worse. I told her I was only worried about the short term. If I could feel good for a while, I could get stuff done that needs to get done. I went back the next day for the inpatient treatment."

"What happened that sent you looking for me and then ended up with you in the East River Veterans Hospital?" Tyler asked.

"The treatment was more intense than I expected. I started to think that I should have taken Megan's warning. At some point, in between treatments, I had some clarity. I overheard a woman talking to Dr. Levitan, and she said something about them needing to give me stronger doses, that they didn't have what they needed, and it was imperative that they get it soon." He paused. "I didn't understand, but I knew I had to get out of there. I was at Waverly then. I was in the basement. That was the only lab I was aware of until later. Anyway, when they left me alone for a bit, I got dressed and snuck out. Gary had given me your name and address, and I'd had it in my pocket for a while. I didn't know if you'd want to help me, but I had to try." Jack took a breath, his gaze swinging to hers. "You were in the ER that night, weren't you, Dr. Thorne?"

"Yes. You said you didn't trust me. But you also told me you needed help. That's why when I found Tyler's address, I went to him."

"I thought you were tied up in it. The email I got suggesting I go to Waverly came from you."

She shook her head. "I never sent you an email."

"I want to check that email," Tyler said, pulling out his phone.

As Jack spoke to Tyler about his email address and password, her mind rehashed everything he'd just said. It seemed impossible to believe that Waverly Health was a front for some kind of spy organization that was preying on veterans to get classified information. It was diabolically clever and horrifically evil. How could they be getting away with it? It had seemed so luxurious and legit when they'd gone there yesterday.

"Here it is," Tyler said. "The email is from a Lucas Deere, but he doesn't have an email attached to the hospital domain."

Tyler handed her his phone, and she read the short email, which said they were reaching out to Jack on behalf of East River Veterans Hospital to suggest that he look into treatment at Waverly Health if he wanted a more aggressive plan geared to his specific problems. Many of their more complex cases had found relief at Waverly.

She couldn't believe what she'd just read. While they hadn't used her name specifically, they had used the name of the hospital, and she could see why the wording would have appealed to a frustrated and impatient person like Jack.

"I'm ninety-nine percent sure this man doesn't work for the hospital."

She saw the disgust run through Jack's eyes as he shook his head. "I was a fool, but I was desperate to get better so I could work longer hours and make more money."

"What's this need for money?" Tyler asked. "You just said you got a big discount on the program, but I know you borrowed money from Evan. Was that for the clinic, too?" Jack hesitated, and Tyler got impatient. "You have to be completely honest with me, Jack, or I'm not going to help you. What did you need the money for, and why did you have a June deadline?"

Jack drew in a slow breath, then let it out. "I found out six months ago that I have a kid."

Chapter Eighteen

Tyler was shocked by Jack's words. It seemed unbelievable that Jack Barrone had a child. He was the least fatherly type of guy he'd ever met. "A kid?" he echoed. "How old?"

"Eighteen," Jack replied. "She's a freshman at NYU. She never knew about me. I never knew about her. Now her mom is sick, and her grandma reached out to me and said I need to step up and take care of my daughter because her mom can't. My kid needs me to put down deposits for her living situation and tuition for next year by June, and I have to make that happen."

"An eighteen-year-old daughter," he murmured, still shaking his head in bemusement. "Who was the mom?"

"A woman I barely knew. I was twenty-two years old on a Christmas break in Texas, visiting one of my friends. We had a night. I never saw her again."

"Why didn't she ever tell you?" Rachel interjected, leaning forward on the couch, shocked interest in her eyes as well.

"According to her mother, she didn’t think I was capable of helping her," Jack said. "I haven't talked to her. Her mom told me she's grateful for any help, but she has to focus on her health and doesn't want to speak to me. I don't know why she doesn't want to talk to me when I didn't even know she had a baby. But it doesn't matter. It's not about her. It's about my daughter. I have to do right. I have to be healthy, because her mom has cancer, and it's not looking good, and her grandma is older. I need to be able to take care of whatever my kid needs."

"That's why you've been in such a hurry to get better," he said.

"Yes. I want to meet my daughter."

"You haven't done that yet?" he asked, wondering why Jack hadn't made that move.

"No. Her grandmother sent me photos of her, but she told me that I needed to decide if I could actually be a father before I told her who I was. That it wouldn't be fair to meet her and then leave her."

Grandma had a point, Tyler thought. And maybe the mother hadn't been wrong, either. He couldn't imagine that a twenty-two-year-old Jack could have handled that kind of news with any grace at all. When he'd first met Jack, he'd been thirty and still irresponsible in many ways. He was good at his job, but his personal life was always a mess.