I Took a Caretaking Job in Calder Flats to Save a Bedridden Patient — Until I Found Her Real Medical File and What Our Neighbor Did to Her
The biting wind of Calder Flats whipped around my worn jacket as I pulled the truck into the town’s main street. Rue’s nausea had worsened overnight, her frail frame shaking with every dry heave. I clutched the handwritten prescriptions for ondansetron and a specific metabolic support blend, the paper crinkling under my anxious grip.
Her life depended on these.
I parked outside the only pharmacy in town, a quaint building with frost-kissed windows. Inside, the air was warm, smelling of peppermint and antiseptic. A friendly-faced man with a neatly trimmed beard, Mr. Henderson, looked up from behind the counter.
He recognized the Kincaid name on the script immediately.
“Clara Dempsey, isn’t it?” he asked, his smile faltering slightly. “Heard you were out at the Kincaid place.”
“That’s right,” I said, offering the slips of paper. “Rue needs these urgently. She’s struggling with severe nausea.”
Mr. Henderson took the prescriptions, his eyes scanning them. His brow furrowed, and he cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. He busied himself rearranging a display of cough drops.
“I… I can’t fill these, Ms. Dempsey,” he finally said, his voice dropping.
My stomach twisted. “What? Why not? These are standard, essential medications.”
He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper. “Silas Montgomery paid a visit to the town board last week. Said some unsettling things about Jonah Kincaid.”
I felt a cold dread spread through me. “Unsettling things?”
“He told everyone that Jonah is unstable,” Mr. Henderson continued, polishing the counter with a cloth he didn’t really need. “Said he’s been stockpiling narcotics out at the homestead, mistreating his sister. Made it sound like a cult compound.”
My jaw tightened. This wasn’t just a rich neighbor being nosy. This was a calculated attack.
“Jonah is doing everything he can to care for Rue,” I countered, my voice sharp. “He’s desperate. She’s severely ill.”
Mr. Henderson shook his head, looking genuinely distressed. “I believe you, Ms. Dempsey. But with the rumors Silas Montgomery put out, and his position on the hospital board… I can’t risk my license. My family lives here.”
He gestured vaguely at the small town outside the window.
“He warned the board that anyone supplying ‘illicitly hoarded’ medications to the Kincaid place would face serious consequences.”
My mind raced. Silas wasn’t just threatening me. He was actively choking off any avenue for Rue to get treatment, turning the entire town against Jonah. He was using his influence to isolate them, cutting them off from basic medical supplies.
“So, you’re refusing a pregnant woman essential care based on gossip?” I pressed, my voice low and firm.
Mr. Henderson finally met my eyes, a flicker of fear in his. “I’m refusing to become part of what he called ‘illegal drug distribution.’ I’m sorry, Ms. Dempsey. There’s nothing I can do.”
He pushed the prescriptions back across the counter. The paper felt heavy, useless. How was I going to keep Rue alive now?
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