I did not go home. I went to the hospital library, which no one used anymore, and sat at a table by the outlet where the power cord had been taped down because the maintenance crew kept stealing it for the vending machine.
I called a lawyer I had used once for a lease dispute. Her name was Priya Raman, and she was expensive, and she answered on the second ring.
"Claire. It's seven in the morning."
"I know. I need a favor."
"I don't do favors. I do consultations."
"Then consult. I'm being accused of a medication error, and I think I'm being framed, and I have forty hours of paid leave and no plan."
There was a pause. "Start at the beginning."
I told her everything. The 2:30 a.m. request. The floating words. The vial. The badge log. The blank night log that Meredith had already annota
