“Mary.” Ruth remained unflappable as she waited for Mary to come to the other side of her fit. Unfortunately, this painful story was one she had heard too many times from too many of the female patients at Emeraldine. After a moment, the hydrotherapy calmed the girl, and Ruth continued gently, “We can send police around to scare some sense into him. Is it your father?”
“My father?” Mary looked confused. “He’s dead.”
“Then who do you live with, dear?”
“My ma—and my brother.”
“Ah.” Taking another breath, Ruth continued to stroke Mary’s head. “What has happened to you isn’t your fault, do you hear me?” She took Mary’s face in her hands gently, turning it so Ruth could look her squarely in the eyes. “I know you’re scared, but you have done nothing wrong. We will help you to get better, and I promise that I will keep you safe. Your brother cannot get to you in my hospital. You can start fresh from here.”
Mary looked at her with doubt in her eyes as she began to cry and nod her head. “Thank you,” she said in barely a whisper.
“Mary, do you like flowers?” The girl looked at her quizzically. “We have many beautiful gardens here. If you can stay calm for me while I’m gone, perhaps later we can go and look at some of the flowers. Right now, I’m due at a meeting, but the nurses will take good care of you. They will make sure you are safe. Can you let them do that until I return later?” Mary nodded hesitantly as Ruth stood. She wished she could stay longer, but she was afraid that the superintendent might have already arrived. Ruth took pride in being well on top of the day’s schedule by the time they had their morning meeting. So, she gave the nurse instructions to ensure that Mary received no visitors and to notify her immediately if someone did come looking for her, and then made her way hurriedly back to the administrative wing.
As she sat down at her desk, she noticed a stack of new files next to the stained-glass lamp her mother had insisted on—its undulating pattern of lilacs rendered in light greens and soft purples to add a more feminine touch to the dark wood-paneled room. A note from Superintendent Hayden sat atop the pile: Interview today at 10:00 a.m. She stood quickly and headed down the hall.
“Charles!” Ruth popped her head into her boss’s office. “If I’d known you would be here early, I would have made my rounds later in the day.”
“Ah, Ruth! Don’t be silly, I had an early meeting. In fact, that is what the file on your desk is about. I am sorry to foist this upon you at the last minute, but this doctor is only in town for the day. The provost of the university and I met with him last night, and they are very interested in him as a chair for their Neurology Department. Interesting fellow. He is both a neurologist and a practicing psychiatrist, and his passion is research. Exactly what you have been telling me we need. I would have had you meet him first, but the school set up the dinner at the last minute. So, since you have been spearheading this search, I wanted to be sure you had the opportunity to see him today.”
“Of course. And thank you.” She kept her voice even and professional when she really wanted to embrace him with gratitude for the faith he always put in her. Never mind her family name, she knew how fortunate she was to be a woman in this position, and how rare it was to find a man willing to treat her with the respect of a colleague.
“Have a look at his curriculum vitae. He comes highly recommended from the folks at Yale. He has also been working with some very innovative medical researchers in Europe. The university is quite impressed with him.”
“Well, they were impressed with the last three, and they were less progressive than the doctors who worked with my brother thirteen years ago.” Ruth twisted the slim timepiece on her wrist.
“You are a tough critic, Miss Emeraldine. But that is exactly why you’re the perfect person for this job. Stay tough with your interviews. We need a new point of view around here. Find the innovators and instigate change. We owe it to our patients!” Mr. Hayden slammed his fist on his imposing wooden desk and smiled, his salt-and-pepper mustache turning up slightly and the corners of his eyes crinkling. Ruth really couldn’t believe her good fortune in having this man as her employer.