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“Meaning they have class this morning.” I start to gather strength and determination. “You write them a new case study that I have no part of. You’ll come into class with me this morning and administer it.”
I get this long, drawn-out, contemplative, I’m a dirtbag stare. “What do you think that will show?”
“That Layla doesn’t cheat, and that Murphy Wallace shouldn’t become a physician.”
He tilts his head and narrows his gaze. “And what about you, Callan?”
It’s a valid question. “I’ll go in with you, and you can hold my phone, so you know I’m not doing anything underhanded. I’m telling you”—I lean forward, scooting the edge of my chair and pinning him with a look he can’t ignore—“Layla Fritz isn’t cheating, and neither am I.” I blow out a breath. “Honestly, sir. I don’t care about me. I have no stake in this for the long-term, but Layla does. She is one of the best and brightest students I’ve seen walk through my emergency room doors in a very long time. I’m not saying we didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m not making excuses for our actions with each other. I know I likely should have spoken up sooner, but nothing we have outside of school has impacted what she’s done in this building. Test her, sir. Test her and you’ll see for yourself.”
He rubs at his jaw and then pops the cigar hanging precariously from his lips and chucks it onto the table. “I’ll do it. I’ll create a case study for them to do in class this morning. Honestly, the last thing I’d ever want to do is wrongfully accuse a Fritz. Her family donates millions to the school, and two of her uncles, as well as her grandfather, are alumni. And yes, I agree her work has been consistent over the year because I reviewed it last night after Miss Murphy’s accusations. Her simulator scores are also exemplary, which you have no part of.” A frown mars his face, and he scrubs a hand over his forehead. “Dammit, Callan. You put me in one hell of a position.”
“I’m aware of that, sir, and again, I apologize for it. We love each other, and that couldn’t be denied.”
He nods his head, and then shakes it in dismay, and then nods again. “I’m agreeing to this because I do know you, and despite this infraction, I do trust you to be a man of your word and honor. However, I think it’s best if you don’t accept my offer.”
I wipe away my smirk. “I wholeheartedly agree with that. What about Layla?”
A heavy, resigned sigh. “Layla stays pending the results of the case study this morning and a more thorough review of the case studies she’s already done this summer.”
Hope shoots through me like a geyser, but I’m far from feeling settled about any of this yet. “One hundred percent, sir. What about my remaining two weeks?”
“You’ll finish them out, but I’ll be the one to write and give the case studies from here on out.”
“Thank you, sir.” I stand and extend my hand. “I’m sorry if I let you down. Please, whatever your opinion of me, don’t hold any of this against Miss Fritz. She’s a brilliant woman and will make an incredible physician one day.”
He shakes my hand, and then I leave, anxious to get out of there. I walk down the hall to the classroom, and when I enter, it’s already filling up, and Layla is there, her expression questioning but grim and nervous. I give her a slip of a wan smile and leave it at that. I won’t risk texting her, and I won’t tip her off that anything is coming.
This needs to be honest if she’s going to be exonerated.
Murphy Wallace is sitting three chairs down from Layla, looking smug. That is until Dr. Scabowitz enters the room twenty minutes later and explains to everyone his plans for their morning, and then her expression drops. I sit at the front of the classroom as everyone works diligently, Dr. Scabowitz beside me, watching with focused, critical eyes.
After class, he shakes my hand again and tells me he’ll be in touch later today with his determination. I thank him, but by the time I leave, Layla is already gone, and I don’t get a chance to talk to her. I figure I’ll try at the hospital where we’re both headed.
Only when I get there, there is a mass trauma, and for my entire shift, I don’t see her. Not once. By the time I make it through the last patient, Layla has already left for the day.
I text her as I get in the car to pick up Katy, asking her to meet me at the sushi restaurant, and she counters by asking me to meet her at Stella’s new restaurant. I agree, and just as Katy and I enter Stella’s restaurant and immediately spot Layla chatting with a woman I don’t recognize over by the bar, a text comes in.
Dr. Scabowitz: Layla passed with flying colors. Top of her class as it were and the only one to not only properly diagnose the abdominal aortic aneurysm, but also the fact that the patient had Marfan’s Syndrome. I believe that neither of you cheated. Murphy Wallace failed and will be out before the start of second-year classes and clerkships.
A euphoric cocktail of joy and relief slithers through me while every tense muscle in my body starts to relax. Especially when the second Layla spots us, a smile lights up her face. She gives us a wave, says something to the woman she’s with, and then comes bounding over to us. She lifts Katy high up in the air and gives her a hug before setting her back down on her feet and leaning in to give me a kiss.
It’s normal. Natural. And everything I’ve wanted us to be for the last couple of months. So much so that I don’t stop myself from taking her into my arms and deepening the kiss. Right here. Out in the open. I wish I had never decided to make her my fake fiancée. I wish she didn’t have to wear the ring she has on her hand right now.
Our lies are out in the open, all except this one, and there isn’t anything I can do about that until Katy is mine.
Someone from across the room whistles out a catcall. “Get a room!”
I pull back, laughing lightly. That had to be Stella. A point Layla proves by flipping her the bird behind her back in a way that Katy can’t see.
“I take it your meeting with Dr. Scab went well,” Layla exclaims, slightly breathless, and just like that, my insides sink.
“Sorta. I need to talk to you.”
Worry creases her features, and she gives me a wan smile as she clutches my hand and leads us over to a small table already set up with menus. The three of us take our seats, and Katy hands me the kid’s menu so I can go over it with her. She can read, but I know her mom used to do this with her so it’s not something I argue about.
I read her each menu items
and she selects mac and cheese.
