I walked toward the window and stared out at the view, noting the cars in the lot and the heavily clouded sky. Though the rain had finally stopped yesterday, it had remained gloomy, with more rain in the forecast. After a moment I turned from the window and took a seat in the chair nearest the bed. Callie continued to ignore me, so I figured I’d treat her like any other patient and go straight into it.
“Hi, Callie,” I said. “I’ve been told you’re not answering important questions and that you want to leave the hospital. Is that right?”
Her lips compressed but otherwise she gave no sign of having heard me.
“People here are on your side and it’s not a good idea to ignore what they’re telling you. I assume that in addition to your broken arm, you had some buildup of fluid around your brain, which meant you had to have it drained. How are you feeling now?”
She blinked but said nothing.
“It was a very nasty fall. I don’t know if you’re aware, but I was the one who brought you to the hospital. Is there anything you can remember about it? I was told that you might have fainted or passed out beforehand.”
She finally turned to face me but ignored my question. “When can I get out of here?”
“It takes time to heal,” I said. “And head wounds should never be taken lightly.”
“The doctor said that I would only have to stay for a couple of days. I’ve been here longer than that.”
That was before he knew how sick you are.
“Have you considered answering their questions?”
“I did.” Her voice was truculent.
“Not all of them. And you’re not telling the truth.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.”
I continued to hold her gaze. Following a hunch, I asked, “Have they done a bone marrow biopsy yet?”
One of her hands moved reflexively toward her hip. It was the most common spot for a bone marrow biopsy, so I took that as a yes, even though she hadn’t answered. Whether she’d received the results was a different question, but not one that I needed answered right now. On her bedside table was a magazine and I reached for it. I laid the form on top of it along with the pen and leaned forward, setting it next to her on the bed.
“I’m going to need you to sign this form,” I said. “It’s a HIPAA form, and it gives me the right to speak with your doctors, review your charts, and discuss your case. You can consider me your advocate if you’d like. Believe it or not, I’m here to help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“You don’t know that. I can answer questions, explain your diagnosis, discuss treatment options with your doctors. You need to be truthful and answer their questions. And for now, you need to stay here.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I think I can.” I leaned back, keeping my tone conversational. “If you leave the hospital, one of two things is going to happen. Either you’re going to end up in another hospital, or you’re going to end up in jail.”
“I fell!” she snapped. “And I didn’t ask to come here—you dragged me here. I would have told them that I can’t pay.”
“It’s not about your bill,” I said. “You’re using my late grandmother’s social security number,” I said. “That’s a federal crime. You also broke my back door, so you could stay at my house after your trailer burned down. That’s breaking and entering, as well as trespassing. I might even tell them that you’re both a minor and a runaway.” I paused. “Unless, of course, we can make a deal.”
Frankly, I had no idea whether the police would even be interested in any of it, except for her being a possible runaway, and I wasn’t even sure about that. But if nice or professional concern hadn’t worked to get her to be more cooperative, then maybe threatening her would. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, making sure she saw it. “I’ll call the police from here,” I said. “You can listen in, if you’d like.”
When she focused on the television again, I went on. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. The only thing I’m not sure about is how you met my grandfather in the first place. Were you walking by the house late one night? Maybe it was raining or you were just worn out and you spotted the barn? You snuck in there, saw the cot—the same one I saw—and crashed for the night. Maybe you stayed a few nights, but I’m guessing my grandfather eventually found you. And instead of running you out once he found you, he probably gave you something to eat. Maybe even let you stay a night or two in the guest room. That’s the kind of guy he was. After that, you began to trust him. But you found the social security card in a box beneath the bed. After you helped him with the honey, he suggested to Claude that he hire you, and you used my grandmother’s social security number. After that, he passed away. When your place burned down, you broke into the house through the back door and stayed until you were able to rent another trailer. You ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and apples while you were there, kept the place clean, and used candles since the power was out. Have I about summed it up?”