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“Becca’s brain is swelling?” Payne interrupted.
Dr. Law nodded. And it was clear by the look on her face she was impressed Payne even knew the term “intracranial hypertension.”
She looked between the Benjamins and went on: “We are going to try some first steps, ones that could correct the problem. But, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin, I must caution you to be prepared that it may come to us having to induce a coma.”
“A coma!” James Benjamin said.
Andrea Benjamin put the handkerchief to her face and sniffled.
“We may not,” Dr. Law said, her tone soft yet reassuring. “I will of course be conferring with colleagues, specialists, before deciding. And of course with you.”
James Benjamin shook his he
ad in disbelief. “Jesus!”
Payne could see that Benjamin’s muscles were now even more tense.
“Can you tell us what is going to happen now?” Andrea Benjamin said.
“Yes, of course,” Dr. Law said. “As I said, we have your daughter as comfortable as possible. She is in what might be described as a plastic tent. It creates an absolute sterile environment. There is a HEPA filter system hooked up to it that removes dust, dirt, and other particles from the air inside the tent to reduce the chances of infection of the patient.”
“What about the burns?” Andrea Benjamin said. “Will she require… oh, what’s the word?”
“Grafts?” Payne offered.
That earned him the glare of Dr. Law.
“Mrs. Benjamin,” she then said calmly, “I do not think skin grafts will be necessary. We have come a long way with specialized treatments. There are, for example, enzymatic agents. These dissolve the burn’s dead tissue on the surface. The process then lets the tissue underneath heal. Also, we have the option of artificial skin, with which we have had significant positive results.”
“Oh, that is all such wonderful information,” Andrea Benjamin said, her tone somewhat hopeful. “Thank you, Doctor.”
Dr. Law nodded and said, “But please remember: We’re very early in this process. There’s much work”-there was a perceptible pause as her eyes looked down the corridor-“to do.”
Payne looked to where she’d glanced. Joseph Olde was walking toward them.
“Good morning,” Olde called as he saw them looking at him.
“What the hell is good about it?” James Benjamin blurted.
“James…” Andrea said reprovingly. She looked at Olde. “Any news on Skipper, Joseph?”
“Nothing new yet.” He stared at Payne. “You’re Matt Payne, aren’t you?”
You didn’t have the decency to return the courtesy? Payne thought.
You could’ve at least asked Mrs. Benjamin about Becca.
Even if apparently you don’t give a damn.
Matt looked at James Benjamin.
And that’s not lost on her father…
No wonder Skipper can be such a prick.
Clearly, the nut didn’t fall far from the fucking tree.
“That’s right, Mr. Olde,” Payne replied.
