Lies Left Unsaid

Dr. Patrick

I didn't have time for the detective's aimless questions. I was one of the best surgeons in the state of Illinois. Time was not something I could spare. Between my work and my family, I hardly had a minute to myself. Just ask my wife of 25 years who was always complaining that I spent too much time at the office. She said it wasn't good for our marriage, but neither was an empty bank account. Caroline loved to spend, yet thought little about where the money came from. It was as if it just magically appeared in our bank account and replenished itself on its own. I told her that if she wanted her expensive lifestyle, then she would have to tolerate my late nights at work. I don't know what she was complaining about anyway. It seemed like anytime I was home, all we ever did was argue. Our relationship was better when I wasn't there. I'm sure it sounds like our marriage was unhappy, but what marriage isn't. And as crazy as it sounds, there was happiness to our unhappiness. It worked for us. It was why we had lasted for 25 years.

I felt bad for Vivian, of course. What a horrible thing for a mother to go through, and one as sweet and beautiful as she. Her daughter was even more so, both sweet and beautiful that is. I remembered her. It was hard not to remember a girl like Caitlyn Coates. I didn't mention it to the detective, because I didn't need him breathing down my neck and wasting my time. There was no information I could provide that would help him find her, so there was no point in him thinking I knew anything at all.

The first day I met Caitlyn was in the fall of 2015. She was interning in the clinic next to mine and she stopped in to see her mother, who was away at lunch. She introduced herself and held out her long, delicate hand for me to shake. Her fingers were freezing cold, which I told her, and I took a moment to rub them in between my two giant palms, trying to warm her up. She giggled and it was the most melodic sound I'd ever heard. She reminded me a lot of her mother, only she was far more confident, which was unusual for a girl her age. There was something about the way she carried herself that was beyond her years. That first day we met, I asked Caitlyn what college she was attending and again she laughed and said she was a sophomore at Highland Park High. I was truly shocked. Her tender age did not show.

Our first encounter was one of many. She often swung by to ask me questions about my work. She was interested in becoming a doctor and asked if she could pick my brain about a few things. Vivian made it clear that she didn't like us spending time together, but I was hardly a man who was going to be told what to do by a woman, especially my secretary, so I allowed Caitlyn to swing by my office around noon everyday to make her inquiries, while her mother was away at lunch. I could tell she was eager to learn, and she was fascinated by what I did. There were several of my surgeries that she observed from behind a glass partition, diligently taking notes. I recall glancing up from the surgery to meet her auburn eyes, which gleamed with an intensity that I've only seen a few times before. This was her calling, to help others, to save lives.

When her internship ended, she asked if she could come back and observe one last surgery. We arranged a day and time, but she never showed. Vivian told me that Caitlyn had decided to attend a boarding school out of state. It was a damn shame she went away. I could tell she had it in her, that spark that makes a doctor great. She had the capability to be an excellent surgeon if she were under my tutelage, but we'll never know her potential now that she is dead. What a waste. What a tragic waste of a life.