THE PATIENT IN ROOM 13
THE HEALER
Monday, January 15th – 9:00 AM
The office was quiet. The morning light streamed through the windows, casting warm patterns on the floor. Sloane sat at her desk, a cup of tea in her hands, the list of names from the memorial spread before her. The voices in her head were still, resting.
“You have done well, Keeper,” Marian said.
“I have done what I could.”
“You have done more than anyone thought possible. You remembered the forgotten. You gave voice to the silenced. You brought peace to the children.”
“There are still more. There will always be more.”
“Yes. But you have made a start.”
Sloane looked at the list.
Fifty-seven names.
Fifty-seven children.
Fifty-seven stories.
She had told them all.
She had remembered them all.
She had helped them find peace.
“What will you do now?” Marian asked.
“I will continue. I will keep helping. I will keep remembering.”
“And the Watcher?”
“The Watcher is at peace. The children are at peace. The tree is gone. The room is sealed.”
“Are you at peace?”
Sloane thought about the question.
“I am learning to be.”
The first patient of the day arrived at 10:00 AM.
Her name was Teresa Marsh. She was the daughter of Dr. Helena Marsh, the former hospital administrator who was now in prison. Teresa had come to apologize.
“Dr. Vance. Thank you for seeing me.”
Sloane gestured to the chair.
“Sit down, Teresa.”
Teresa sat.
“I know what my mother did. I know about the hospital. I know about the room. I know about the children.”
“Did you know while it was happening?”
“No. My mother kept it from me. She said she was protecting me.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I want to. But I don’t know.”
“How did you find out?”
“I read your testimony. I read the news articles. I talked to the families.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“It was. I was angry. I was ashamed. I was confused.”
“And now?”
“Now I want to help. I want to make amends. I want to do something good.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Teresa reached into her bag.
She pulled out a check.
“I want to donate to a fund. For the families. For the forgotten. For the children.”
Sloane looked at the amount.
It was substantial.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. My mother’s money came from the hospital. From the suffering of others. It’s time to give it back.”
Sloane took the check.
“Thank you, Teresa.”
“No. Thank you, Dr. Vance. For telling the truth. For remembering.”
Teresa stood.
She walked to the door.
“Dr. Vance?”
“Yes?”
“My mother wants to see you. She’s in prison. She wants to apologize.”
Sloane was silent.
“Will you go?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Teresa left.
Sloane looked at the check.
The voices in her head stirred.
“Will you go?” Marian asked.
“I don’t know.”
“She is your enemy. She hurt many people.”
“I know.”
“But she is also human. She made mistakes. She was afraid.”
“I know.”
“Forgiveness is difficult.”
“Forgiveness is necessary.”
Sloane set down the check.
She picked up her phone.
She dialed the prison.