Dr. Bourse knew that Dr. Rothman was closer to this student than to anyone in the whole medical community. She knew quite a bit about Pia, more than she guessed Pia surmised. Bourse had had access to all the deliberations of the admissions committee, which she had pored over in great detail. Up until the call from Winston, she’d had high hopes for her, hopes she wanted to maintain. For Pia, Bourse’s intent was to try to keep the damage from the evening’s escapade and poor judgment to a minimum. Such was the burden of being dean of students. Earlier that evening Bourse had had to deal with an even more difficult issue: A third-year student had been caught stealing prescription drugs from the medical floors. Bourse turned her attention to the second delinquent. At least he met her eye, which she couldn’t get from Pia. “So what’s your excuse?” she asked George, with a certain resignation in her voice.

“No excuses. I was helping my friend,” he said as evenly as he could.

Dr. Bourse studied George. He too was a top student, more liked in general than Pia, who could be considered standoffish. Bourse was well aware of George’s apparent infatuation with Pia, so she took his excuse at face value. Once again she marveled at how such an apparently accomplished young man like George could be reduced to such a lovelorn teenager that he’d risk his future like this. If Bourse had allowed Winston to have him arrested, it could have affected his becoming a doctor.

“All right,” Bourse said. She took a deep breath and regarded the ceiling for a moment to clear her head. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go back to your rooms and stay there. You won’t fraternize with anyone or talk about this episode with anyone. You’ll monitor your temperatures and take your antibiotics as directed. George, I’ll make sure you get some. And I’ll see both of you in my office at seven tomorrow morning. We’ll discuss your elective then, Ms. Grazdani. Mr. Wilson, tomorrow you will return to Radiology. Both of you will also say a prayer for me and thank the Lord that I’m in a benevolent mood. I’ll now go and square this away with Mr. Winston. If I can.”

With the dean out of the room, George let out a deep sigh and sat back in his chair. “Oh my God, I thought we were dead. If the police aren’t involved, it’s just an internal thing. It won’t be on our records. It’ll be like this never happened.” George looked at Pia, who didn’t respond. Her face was a blank, her mind clearly still back at the lab.

“You can’t let this drop?” George questioned.