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“Okay. I’m so sorry, Lori. Please, tell your parents how sorry I am.”
“I will,” Lori says and ends the call.
I leave my desk at the station and run to the staff washroom, locking myself into a stall, tears running down my cheeks.
I bawl.
Gramps was right. Mr. Wall Street and his friends did drugs, and Michelle wasn’t used to it. Probably accidentally took too much or mixed alcohol and drugs.
Something happened to make her overdose…
I try to get control over myself, and when I feel like I can, I text Michelle.
NATALIA: Did Lori call you? You have to call me, and we have to talk.
She must be in a class because she doesn’t respond to my texts.
I leave the stall and wash my face, which is red from crying. Of course, it’s at that moment that my boss walks into the room.
Dr. Karen Douglas is the ward manager where I work. She's an older woman in her fifties with a stylish bob. She has always been nice to me when she learned my ultimate goal was Forensic Psychiatry.
“What’s the matter, Natalia? What’s happened?”
“I just found out one of my best friends died of an accidental drug overdose,” I say, shaking my head. I wipe the wet mascara from under my eyes and sniff, trying to get hold of my emotions.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Karen says and places her hand on my shoulder. “That’s so sad.”
“Thing is, she didn’t do drugs. I’ve known her for years. We lived together in college, so I know she didn’t, but she started hanging around with this really rich Wall Street guy and I think he must have been doing drugs.”
“Who was it?”
I shrug, not sure I should tell her. “Harrison O'Connor.”
Her mouth drops open. “You meantheHarrison O'Connor of the O'Connor clan?”
I nod. “Yes.” I sigh heavily, biting my lip to stop from crying again. “She set her sights on meeting him and for some reason,she succeeded. She only just met him and now she’s dead.” I have to cover my mouth again to stop from sobbing.
“Oh, honey,” Karen says, her arm around me. “You take the rest of the day off. In fact, come back on Monday, okay? You need some time to adjust. I have a few eager beavers who will pull your shifts.”
I nod and wipe my eyes. “Thank you.”
She smiles sadly and then leaves me alone in the washroom.
I splash some water on my face, then I leave the washroom and head back to my desk at the nursing station. I grab my backpack and laptop, and then leave the hospital, slipping on some sunglasses on the way down the elevator so no one can see my bloodshot eyes.
I can’t do anything about the red nose.
I arrive backat the house and Gramps is sitting in the living room, reading his daily paper as usual.
“What are you doing home so early?” he asks when he glances up from his paper. He must see my still-red nose and eyes. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He puts the newspaper down and stands up, coming over to where I am by the stairs leading to the second floor. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, barely able to speak, the tears beginning once more. “It’s Sherri. She’s dead.”
“What?” He frowns and then folds me into his arms. “Oh, my God, Natalia. No…”
I stand in his embrace for a few moments, and he lets me cry on his shoulder. I feel so lost, not knowing what to do with myself.
“What should I do, Grampa? Should I call the police? She didn’t do drugs, except some pot now and then. What if she was drugged?”
