“How has everything been working out? I’m so sorry that I haven’t been able to spend more time with you.” Julia talked as she worked, inspecting the burned skin of the old man.

“I understand. It’s been crazy around here.” Val had to look away. The man’s legs resembled hot dogs that had been left on the grill too long. The charred skin had split to reveal pink underneath. The barbecue scent was sickeningly sweet. Meat would definitely be off her menu for the foreseeable future.

“Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe it. We’re all on edge right now. Sometimes I don’t know how Phil handles it all.”

“Dr. Blythe doesn’t seem to want me around,” Val said cautiously, hoping to get Julia’s opinion on the matter.

“His problem is with me and not you. So, don’t take what he says or does personally. If I took everything he said to me personally, I’d have a nervous breakdown. Truth is, Phil can be a nice guy. He’s just under a lot of pressure right now. He gets nasty to be around with if things aren’t running smoothly.”

It was possible. Maybe this was just Blythe’s personality. Still, Val couldn’t help but think there was something else. Something Julia wasn’t telling her.

Julia continued her exam, not saying anything more about Dr. Blythe. “Now look at this. This man set himself on fire while cooking dinner. The flames from the frying pan took hold of his sleeve and then traveled across his torso to his legs. He’s burned over thirty percent of his body. For elderly people this is enough to cause death. They just can’t recover from this type of tissue insult.”

She pointed out the injuries. The man’s arm was still bandaged in gauze, showing obvious attempts from the emergency room to stabilize his wounds. Muscle tissue, devoid of sound skin, was visible on the periphery of the bandages. His legs were in a much worse state and Val kept her eyes off them.

Julia worked silently for a few moments. “You’ve probably heard about my dilemma?” The words caught Val off guard.

Val tried to act like she had no idea what Julia was talking about even though she knew exactly what it was. Julia’s dilemma was her lawsuit. She had performed a minor surgical procedure on a woman who, it turned out, was her husband’s mistress. The woman had contracted a flesh-eating infection and had lost half her face.

“Stop being polite: everyone around here knows about it. Candace mentions it whenever she gets a chance,” Julia said.

“You don’t have to explain to me,” Val said.

“I’d feel better if you knew the truth rather than listening to gossip.” Julia looked Val straight in the eye, her face serious, and said plainly, “I didn’t do it.”