“My name is Nathan Karn. I’m one of the psychiatric nurses here at St. Agnes. I’m sorry to disturb you at this time, sir, but you’re listed as Naomi’s emergency contact.”
“I asked to be removed as emergency contact,” Levi said, voice cold.
“Even so, as her next of kin, I’m required to keep you informed.”
“Next of kin? Is she dead?“
Before the man on the other line could answer, Shiloh propped himself up just enough to look at Levi, face adorably sleepy. “Who ‘sit?” he slurred.
“Nobody, baby,” Levi promised, cupping his face for a moment. “Go back to sleep.”
Shiloh made another noise of complaint, then buried his face in Levi’s armpit with a dreamy sigh. Levi would have laughed if he wasn’t so irritated.
“She’s not dead, Mr. Akira. She’s missing.”
Levi could feel that muscle in his jaw starting to tic. “What?”
“Just as I said. Your mother left the hospital against court orders. We can’t find her.”
Levi didn’t know what they wanted him to do about it. “Well, good luck with that.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Aren’t you even a little concerned? Your mother is very ill.”
Levi snorted. “If you’re so invested, you go find her. I’ll give you a hint, though. Check all the bars in a half-mile radius ofthe hospital. She’s probably turning tricks in an alley for cheap beer.”
There was another long pause. Should he just hang up? Why was he even entertaining this guy? He didn’t know Naomi. He certainly didn’t know Levi. Why was he just sitting there, waiting for this stranger to chastise him?
Finally, the man—Nathan?—said, “Has anyone ever talked to you about the possibility that your mother might be schizophrenic?”
Levi stopped short, his heartbeat kicking behind his ribs. “What?”
Nathan cleared his throat. “As Naomi sobered, the staff noticed some worrisome symptoms…”
“Like what?” Levi said, hoping his tone conveyed how little he fucking cared.
“Seeing things that aren’t there, hearing voices, paranoia that the staff is trying to poison her. She’s been severely agitated. We’ve had to sedate her several times.”
Levi shook his head even though nobody could see him. “My mother’s always been that way. She’s an alcoholic. She talks to people who aren’t there all the time. Rants and raves at the walls, accuses me of trying to kill her at least once a month.”
“We think the drinking may have been her way of self-medicating,” Nathan said. “It’s common for people without access to medical care to turn to recreational drugs or alcohol to try to cope.”
Rage suddenly swelled within Levi, filling him until there was no room to breathe. Would he never be rid of her? “So, what?”
There was another long pause. “I’m…I’m sorry?”
“Who cares if she’s schizophrenic? Am I supposed to feel sorry for her? Does it undo all the years of abuse? The beatings? Selling me to strangers for rent or beer? Does it change all thetimes she locked me out of the house for some imaginary slight? Mental illness isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card, Nate.”
When the man spoke again, there was a softness to his tone that only further irritated Levi, like he was trying to relate to him somehow. “But there are treatment options…”
“Was she sober when she took off?” Levi asked, cutting him off.
“Yes,” he said hesitantly, like he thought this might be a trap.
“Had you explained all this to her? The possible diagnosis? The treatment options?”
“It's not that easy, Mr. Akira. We explained it to the best of our abilities. But she is in the advanced stages of a severe vitamin deficiency. We were attempting to treat that first so we could better assess her mental state and determine whether the psychosis is the result of a thiamine deficiency or if she truly is schizophrenic?—”
“Then why bring it up in the first place? You don’t even know if sheisschizophrenic. This could just be the consequences of her own actions. Why are you bothering me with this?”
