Page 213 of True Blue

“Dr. Miller did not pursue you?”

“I pursued her. I asked her out. She was careful about boundaries because of Nana. More careful than I wanted her to be at the time.”

“And you are not lying to us to cover up for Dr. Miller?” Dr. Minkus asks.

Dr. Vale glances at him, barely covering her irritation.

I look him right in his eyes, and instead of answering his bullshit question the way he wants me to, I tell them who Indie truly is.

“I watched Indie try to save my grandmother.”

Everyone freezes, even the note taker in the corner. The air in the room changes, thickens into something heavy and important.

“I watched Dr. Miller give my grandmother CPR,” I say, my voice rough now. “I watched her break Nana’s ribs trying to bring her back. I watched her fight for my Nana long after anyone else would have understood if she stopped. She had to be pulled off by me because she refused to give up.”

I grit my teeth against the images in my head. Indie, exhausted, sweaty, trying to force Nana’s heart to restart, trying to breathe air into her lungs.

“I’m her grandson, and I was a complete wreck,” I admit. “Barely able to dial 911. Barely able to breathe. But Indie moved. Indie tried everything she could to save her.”

Sniffing, I shove the tears down and meet each of the doctor’s eyes.

“Does that sound like a woman who was eager for my grandmother to die and cash in on an inheritance?”

Dr. Minkus’ gaze drops. Dr. Halloran’s eyes shimmer and go soft. Dr. Vale rests her chin on her hand, watching me closely.

“My grandmother was competent and capable,” I say. “She left Indie money because she loved her. She donated two million dollars to the American Cancer Center in Indie’s name because she knew how much that would mean to her. That wasn’t confusion. That was Nana.”

“Mr. Williams, you have spoken at length about Dr. Miller’s character. But this committee must also consider the complaint that has been filed. Is it possible that this…” Minkus' eyes shift, and I barely suppress my eye roll. “Person genuinely believes that Dr. Miller took advantage of Eleanor Ambrose?”

“My mother didn’t file that complaint because she was worried about Nana,” I say simply. “My mother filed that complaint because Indie was included in the will, and she wasn’t. She filed it because she hates Indie. Because Indie has something she wanted.”

Dr. Halloran’s eyes sharpen. “And that is?”

“Me,” I answer, unashamed now because the shame doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to my mother.

Dr. Meyer said trauma isn’t the thing that happened to you; it’s the pain you bear after the fact. My mother is not my trauma. She is my abuser. I am her victim. And I will heal from this trauma.

Part of that healing is this—standing up for Indie the way I should have from the start.

“Mr. Williams,” Dr. Halloran says, her voice quieter now, “are you suggesting your mother fabricated this complaint as retaliation?”

“I’m not suggesting it,” I say. “I’m telling you she did.”

“Based on what?” Dr. Minkus does sneer this time.

“Based on what she screamed in the hallway less than an hour ago. Based on the documents Dunk gave you. Based on years of watching her punish anyone who threatened her control. This was retaliation. Not concern.”

Silence follows for a long moment, before Dr. Vale places her hand down sharply on the table, the sound like punctuation.

“Mr. Williams, I think we have everything we need. Thank you.”

Standing from the chair, I don’t give them another glance as I walk out of the room.

Lorraine is speaking softly to Indie in the hallway. Indie is pacing in front of her, hands fidgeting, lip caught between her teeth.

She freezes in place when she sees me, but I don’t stop walking toward her.

I raise an eyebrow.