“All right.”
“But there’s something else I need to ask you about.”
She opened the folder.
“When we pulled your medical history, our system found an archived record from twelve years ago. It’s connected to an outside organization. I’ve never seen it before, and frankly, I’m a little puzzled by it.”Get Health Tips
She turned the folder toward me.
“Have you ever received medical consultations or testing through a private research facility?”
I frowned. “Not that I remember.”
“The record is from a group called Carter Biomedical Research. In Cambridge, Massachusetts.”
The name went into me like a needle.
“Carter?” I repeated.
“Yes. Does that sound familiar?”
I didn’t answer right away.
Because for twelve years, I’d kept a memory to myself.
Three days before Robert died, I was sitting in the hallway outside his room at St. Francis. The same hospital. Two floors up.Find Hospitals
