Vincent looked at her, his eyes softening. “I’m sorry, Miss Harrison. We have reason to believe your termination may have been influenced by false reports.”
Lenora pressed her lips together, fighting the sudden sting of tears.
She remembered the day she packed her locker at St. Catherine’s Medical Center. The fluorescent buzz overhead. The smell of antiseptic. The nurse from pediatrics who could not look her in the eye. The cardboard box in her arms holding a chipped coffee mug, two pens, a photo of Ruth and Thomas, and the little thank-you card a patient’s daughter had written in purple crayon.
She had cried in her car for forty minutes before driving home.
Darnell had not looked up from his phone.
Maybe if you weren’t so unstable, you could hold down a job.
Lenora turned toward him now.
“You did that?”
Darnell’s mouth opened. “I didn’t—”
