Free Hidden Jewel by V. C. Andrews

see if she needed anything. I had seen and heard her heart monitor, and Mrs. Brennen had told me that Mrs. Conti had been upstairs in the cardiac care unit for ten days before being brought down to the second floor.
"Why wasn't she still upstairs?" I whispered to Dr. Weller when he emerged after the failed effort to revive her had ended.
"They sent her down two days ago because she had made enough progress and they needed room for another patient." He shrugged. "Can't always predict it," he said and then flashed a challenging smile. "Still want to be a doctor?"
I looked back at the room in which the dead woman still lay. Her family didn't know yet, but I was sure she would soon be mourned and missed. When I envisioned the saddened children and grandchildren, I felt anger boil in the base of my stomach. If I had been her doctor, she wouldn't have been moved out of the cardiac care unit.
"More than ever," I replied.
He tilted his head back and laughed. "Maybe you're the real thing. Something tells me I've found the right study helper." He looked back at the room and sighed. "Gotta go do the paperwork," he said. "That's a part of being a doctor you'll soon learn to hate too."
Maybe I was naive, but I thought there was no part of being a doctor I would hate.
I hadn't done all that much, but when my shift ended, I felt exhausted. Most of it was from the tension of starting the work and the emotional strain that resulted from seeing someone die. I changed back into my street clothing and left the corridor with Sophie. She and I stepped into Mrs. Morgan's office to punch out.
"How did you do?" she asked and looked at Sophie. "She did fine, just fine," Sophie said quickly. "She didn't throw up once."
Mrs. Morgan smiled. "Well, that's an
accomplishment. Here is your regular card. Punch in when you begin your shift and punch out when you end, and remember to buy some white shoes," she reminded me.
"Yes, ma'am."
Sophie and I left the hospital. The humidity hadn't diminished a degree, but the sun had gone down enough to lower the temperature.
"My mother says I'm lucky because I work in an air-conditioned hospital," Sophie said as we started down the driveway.
"What does she do?"
"Laundry."
"What about your father?"
"He works in the Quarter. He's a cook. I got two younger sisters still in school and a brother who's in the army. What about you?"
"I have twin brothers, twelve years old. Where do you live, Sophie?"
"On the other side of the Quarter. I take the car to Canal Street."
We waited for the streetcar together.
"How long have you worked in the hospital?" I asked her.
"Little more than a year."
"Don't you want to return to school? There's a lot more for you to learn," I said.
She dropped her eyes quickly. "Can't," she said. "Gotta work."
"Why? Doesn't your father make good money as a cook?" I knew good cooks in the Quarter were valuable.
Sophie shrugged. "Maybe," she said. "We don't know for sure."
"What? Why not?"
"He doesn't live with us," she told me just as the streetcar came around to our station. She hurriedly boarded, I sat beside her, and we both looked out the window as the car rattled down the track. "He doesn't even come to the house anymore," she continued. "He just sends some money around from time to time. If I want to see him, I have to go down to the restaurant, but he never has time to talk much."
"I'm sorry," I said. When the car approached my station and I stood up, Sophie looked very impressed.
"You live in the Garden District?"
"Uh-huh."
"I never even walked down here," she said.
"Maybe one day you can stop off and have dinner with me," I suggested.
"Really?" Her smile faded. "I usually gotta get right home to help Mama."
"Maybe you can work it out," I suggested. "See you tomorrow. Thanks for helping me get started. Bye."
"Bye," she called.
When I got home everyone wanted to hear about my first day at work. The twins made faces and groaned when I described some of the cleanup work I had to do, but when I told them