Chapter 7 - Someone Who Wasn't Watching Him
Eli’s mother called Nia through the contact arrangement Lang had approved.
“Caroline Hale,” she said. “Eli would like to see you. This isn’t a request from his father.”
Nia asked whether the timing was appropriate and whether Eli knew she couldn’t discuss the investigation.
“He does. He mostly wants somebody to stop saying he gave them a scare.”
At the hospital, Caroline met her outside the room.
She looked exhausted, with a book upside down in one hand.
“Thank you for treating my son like a patient.”
Nia wasn’t sure what to say.
Caroline gave a small, miserable smile.
“That shouldn’t be something I have to thank anyone for.”
Inside, Eli sat upright in borrowed sweatpants. His breathing was easier, though a longer sentence still seemed to tire him.
Nia didn’t ask to see his chart.
He told her the doctors believed he had suffered a severe airway problem and needed further assessment before returning to strenuous training.
“Dad keeps saying it happened because I got worked up.”
“Your doctors can discuss what they’ve found with you.”
“Do you think I was being dramatic?”
“I think you couldn’t breathe.”
He looked at her for a long time.
Then he laughed once, without humor.
“Everybody else needs the answer to be longer.”
They talked about the hospital food. He asked whether the other trainees were angry about the disrupted schedule. She told him people were adjusting, which was true without making promises for them.
Finally, he looked down at his blanket.
“He says the tank never hurt me.”
“We didn’t use it.”
“So none of this needed to happen?”
Nia chose her words carefully.
“You needed reliable help. The fact that another kit was available doesn’t make a defective one acceptable.”
Eli rubbed his eyes.
“I’m glad you didn’t use it.”
“So am I.”
He went quiet.
“My dad used to tell me to ask questions before I touched anything. Cars, power tools. Everything.”
She waited.
“Now I can’t figure out when asking him a question turned into being against him.”
Nia felt an impulse to tell him about the photographed tag.
She resisted it.
“I can’t answer that for you.”
He nodded, disappointed but still listening.
At the door, she stopped.
“You don’t owe me testimony because I helped you. That part was my job.”
His face changed.
May you like
“Okay.”
Only in the hallway did she understand how badly he had needed someone to say it.
