Emily knelt in front of the now-open drawer, a little squashed between the filing cabinet and Stone’s desk beside it, as Eliza worked on F–L.Emily ran her fingers through the manila folders to R, snatched up her own file and began to read.
It was mostly what she would have expected, but there, in the margin for each treatment log, was the aerosol drug’s name:
Trichloroacetic acid.
She tried to focus on the details as the fire bell hammered her brain.She cursed June; this all would have been so much less stressful with only the distant sounds of a fight to manage instead of this assault to the eardrums.
The second drawer opened faster.
“Always easier once I figure out the first in a set,” Eliza said, stepping aside.Emily shut her own file and sought out Annie’s.It was over an inch thick.She dropped it, and several of the sheets slid out onto the floor.
“Damn it!”Emily scrambled to stuff them back into the folder.She shook her head at her own rattled nerves, and as her eyes slid to the right, her gut flipped.
“Wait, Eliza,there!”She pointed to a thin drawer affixed to the underside of Stone’s desk beside her, which was only visible from her vantage.It had a lock on it.Surely a half-hidden, locked drawer would be where the doctor would keep her most personal or highly sensitive documents.
She swept up Annie’s mess of a file and scooted aside to give Eliza some space in front of the drawer.
“Yeah, that’ll be it, won’t it?”Eliza grinned, then bit her lip and, bending her neck awkwardly beneath the desk, began to pick the lock as Emily opened Annie’s file.As she read, her face grew hot and her fingers cold.
“Emily, I can smell smoke,” Eliza said suddenly, her voice rising on the last word.
“I know.I know,” Emily said absently, still horrified by what she was reading in her friend’s file.
“Wherever the fire is, it’s either getting worse or closer or both!”Eliza screamed.
APPEAL FOR DISCHARGE DENIED 1/23/1960
APPEAL FOR DISCHARGE DENIED 8/16/1958
APPEAL FOR DISCHARGE DENIED 10/4/1955
APPEAL FOR DISCHARGE DENIED 2/10/1952
“EMILY!”
Emily tore her eyes away from Annie’s records to look at Eliza, whose hands had begun to shake.She dropped one of the hairpins and swore.
“I’m leavin’!”Eliza bellowed over the fire alarm.“I ain’t about to die in a brick oven!This wasn’t the deal—”
“Eliza, just wait,” Emily begged, “we’re almost—”
“No!”Eliza backed away from her, toward the door.“Every window is barred up here, I’m gettin’ out.We need to go!”
“I can’t!”Emily shouted back.“I’m—”
“God help ye then,” Eliza said, and bolted out of the office.
“Eliza!”Emily tried to shout, but her voice cracked.She began to cough.The smoke in the air was undeniable now, more than just a distant odour.And more than smoke.There was something chemical about it that choked her.
Her watering eyes went to the drawer beneath Stone’s desk again.It was only a matter of time before Stone realized Emily and Annie’s files were missing—it would make no difference at this point if the doctor knew her personal files had also been accessed.Besides, they might go up in flames any minute now, anyway.She had to retrieve any bulletproof evidence that might exist before it was all destroyed.
She needed something sharp or hard or wedge-shaped to force the drawer open.She cast around the small room, fighting her panic.She spotted the umbrella stand beside the door and lunged, withdrawing a long black brolly with a heavy mahogany handle.She bolted back to Stone’s desk and stood in front of it, coughing.She hauled the desk away from the wall, then, with a guttural bellow she’d never before produced, overturned it, scattering the stationery, pen cup and other detritus.Emily lifted the umbrella and, with another almighty roar, brought the handledown hard onto the back of the drawer.Panting and coughing, she repeated the assault three more times as sweat dripped into her eyes before the drawer gave way with acrackof splintering wood.
Emily threw the umbrella aside and knelt, ripping the pieces of the drawer apart.With a leap in her chest, she gathered up the lone file inside and tucked it under her arm.Then she reached into the drawer and pulled out the limited contents; aside from the folder, there was only some cash, a chequebook, and a few personal sundries.
Seizing her own patient file and Annie’s, Emily made for the door, out into the infirmary and the corridor beyond.
Smoke filled the air, and coming from the stairwell, she heard deep male voices: a sound that hadn’t reached her ears since the judge sentenced her six months ago.The firemen were headed to the second floor.
