Free Arsenic for the Soul by Nathan Wilson

man’s
ramblings.”
    Vivian sighed and laughed. Somehow
Gavin always knew when she needed a drink.
    “ And what do you call this
mad little concoction?”
    Gavin’s eyes glazed over and he raised
a glass brimming with crimson liquid to his lips.
    “ Red Widow. Even now as you
sit before me, you remind me so much of the determined woman who
walked into the Toxic Mistress a year ago. There’s a fire in you
that will never be put out. I know you’ll do great things with your
life. You can’t even imagine, but your journey is just beginning.
Here’s to the most inquisitive student I know.”
    Vivian’s mind shifted from business to
pleasure in those fragile few seconds.
     
     
     
    SIX
     
     
     
    Two months passed since Vivian
consulted Gavin in the Toxic Mistress. She was adapting to her
routine of classes and clinicals. Exams were creeping over the
horizon and waiting for an auspicious Monday to pounce. She would
be ready for them this time—assuming she wasn’t distracted by
fantasies of Milo again.
    As for Camilla, she had an entirely
different man on her mind. The thought of her stalker continued to
eat away at her, despite his notable absence of letters or threats.
She believed it was only a matter of time before he resurfaced.
Gavin was still working tirelessly to track down her lineage but he
ran into a few snags. That was to be expected when investigating a
family of deceased recluses.
    Meanwhile, Vivian was assigned to
watch over a female patient recovering from emergency surgery. She
was placed in the psychiatric department because she remained a
danger to herself.
    Suicide watch was an unfamiliar
experience for Vivian. She couldn’t let the woman out of sight,
going so far as to accompany her to the bathroom. In addition, the
patient’s belt, jewelry, and shoelaces had been
confiscated.
    She finally nodded off to sleep after
Vivian read her a story. She was feeling drowsy herself after
spending two hours hunched over a book. Apparently it wasn’t the
first time this patient needed monitoring. A few months ago, a team
of surgeons saved her from another perilous attempt to end her
life.
    Vivian tossed the book aside and
sauntered over to the window. The window in the ward wasn’t
designed for opening—it was just a portal to the world beyond. At
least she could kill a few minutes of boredom by watching the
people outside.
    When even that task became mundane,
she turned around to check on the patient. For the first time, she
noticed something jarring about the woman’s face. She leaned in for
a closer look.
    Lesions. They boiled on the surface
like fleshy barnacles feasting on her ear.
    “ The same symptoms as the
homeless woman…” She remembered her conversation with Gavin about
the nature of the red markings. Lupus
vulgaris is tuberculosis of the skin. If untreated, the lesions
will evolve into skin cancer.
    She barged into the hall.
    “ They have to believe me
now. They can’t dismiss this anymore.” Her green eyes frantically
scanned the hall, looking for someone to share her findings
with.
    She couldn’t hunt down the hospital
director and force him to hear her out. Barring the fact that she
didn’t know who the director was, Vivian would likely be jumping
over an ambiguous chain of command. She had no choice but to seek
out Bryan Hajek, her mentor for the nursing program.
    He often wandered from one department
to the next to survey the students and pull them out of the fire.
She could spot him a mile away from his portly stature and the
glasses slipping over his nose and mustache. He also insisted on
wearing tweed jackets in a hospital brimming with lab coats and
scrubs.
    Vivian’s heart leaped when she spotted
Bryan, but it sunk just as quickly when she saw who was occupying
his time. He was conversing with her least favorite surgeon,
Crenshaw. How could she forget the man who humiliated her on her
first day of clinicals?
    Vivian crossed paths with Crenshaw a
few times since their