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Medical Center. Operating Room 2.
"Cooking that stuff in their own apartment…" Dr. Shepherd shook his head in disbelief after Adam finished giving instructions.
"It's pretty common," Adam said with a laugh. "Where else are regular folks gonna do it? When you're just starting small, it's always your own place. Once you scale up, then you think about renting some hidden spot for a lab. Or maybe you snag an RV, drive it out to the middle of nowhere every week, cook for a couple days, pack up, and come back to sell.
"Get even bigger, and you might open a legit business as a front—like a laundromat with a real chem lab in the basement. All the raw materials, equipment, ventilation, and distribution? Easy to hide. Go bigger still, and you're heading overseas, staking out land to build a full-on corporate empire."
"…"
Everyone in the OR froze, staring at Adam with their jaws dropped.
"What?" Adam asked, amused.
"Dr. Duncan, how do you know all this so well?" Lexie blurted out, stunned.
"You guys forgot—I'm not just a doctor; I'm a writer too," Adam said with a grin. "Before writing, I always dig into research. I got really into this stuff a while back when I wanted to write a crime novel about it. Did a deep dive."
He wasn't some armchair expert, that's for sure.
"Oh, that makes sense…"
The room collectively nodded in realization.
"Dr. Duncan, you're amazing!" the junior nurses gushed.
"Can we read that novel?" Dr. Shepherd teased. "Lord of the Mysteries ended so abruptly—don't tell me this one's doomed too?"
"I've quit writing," Adam said with a nod. "My goal now is just to be a doctor who saves lives."
"What?!" a nurse gasped. "I thought it was just Lord of the Mysteries you were done with. You're quitting for good?"
"Yeah, I realized some people's brains work in wild ways," Adam said, half-venting. "A good fantasy story can broaden your perspective, but a lot of folks zero in on the dark parts. Even when there's no darkness, they'll twist the fictional world into something grim, attracting all sorts of weirdos.
"Lord of the Mysteries taught me that lesson hard. If I wrote a crime novel about this stuff—even with a message warning people to stay away to avoid ruining their lives—who knows how many oddballs would only see the quick cash and ignore the danger, the damage to society, the innocent lives wrecked? Better to just not write it at all."
"Those people deserve to rot."
"Such a shame, though."
The room buzzed with sighs and comments.
"Dr. Duncan, the samples are sent off. The lab's rushing them, and they'll call the second they've got results," the know-it-all nurse said, returning from her errand. "Hospital security's on it too—every patient's got a guard posted outside."
"Good. How's everyone doing?" Adam nodded, tossing out the question casually.
"The neighbor and the friend who stopped by are in rough shape," she replied, already up to speed and rattling off details like a pro. "The neighbor's a 60-year-old guy—caught in the blast while reading the morning paper at home. Second- and third-degree burns to his chest and upper abdomen, facial trauma, fractured shoulder. The friend who came to visit has serious abdominal bruising—possible internal bleeding. He went into cardiac arrest during a CT scan, but Dr. Yang brought him back."
"My guess accuracy's gone up again," Adam said with a grin. "This guy showing up bright and early? Probably a junkie—heard some of those types hang around dealers' doors, ready to restock the second they can."
"His sudden cardiac arrest—could it be cardiomyopathy from long-term stimulant use?" little Melendez chimed in.
"Exactly," Adam said, giving him a nod before turning back to the nurse. "What about the patient's husband and kid?"
"The husband's fine, just shaken up," she said. "But their one-year-old son—he's not hurt, but he won't stop crying. No amount of soothing works, and it's driving the dad nuts. Poor kid. The explosion must've freaked him out way too much—too young to deal with that kind of trauma."
"Crying nonstop?" Adam frowned. "We've been in surgery for an hour, and they came in right after, yeah? Who's with him?"
"Yup, pretty much back-to-back," the nurse confirmed. "Dr. Grey's handling it."
"Damn it!" Adam's tone turned serious. "Tell Dr. Grey to run a tox screen on the baby, then get him an X-ray. Check if he's addicted to methamphetamine!"
"On it!" The nurse bolted to make the call.
"Adam, you think he's hooked on meth?" Dr. Shepherd asked, floored. "Their own son? He's only one?"
"I doubt they're feeding it to him," Adam said, shaking his head. "They're probably just cooks—not users themselves. Otherwise, her heart and kidneys wouldn't be in such good shape. Controlled people like that wouldn't let their kid near the stuff.
"But they're making it in their apartment. To keep it under wraps, the insulation and ventilation are probably crap. When they heat the meth, the fumes spread everywhere—walls, floors, couch—all coated with invisible particles. A baby crawling around, sticking his hands in his mouth? That's basically like him snorting it. It wouldn't take long to get hooked.
"And since the apartment's loaded with it, when he's craving, he crawls, licks something, gets his fix—acts like any other kid. Plus, with them wrapped up in the illegal gig—focusing on purity, dodging cops, making sales—they're too distracted to notice their precious son's turned into the very junkie they despise, right under their noses."
"Now he's out of the apartment, been here a while, withdrawal's kicking in, and there's no relief—so he's crying nonstop!"
It clicked for everyone.
What a mess! Meth addiction screws up your nerves, heart, kidneys—irreversible damage. Like that junkie who flatlined earlier—could happen anytime. If he hadn't been in the hospital for a save, he'd be gone. And that's an adult.
This is a one-year-old, barely developed, hit with trauma like that. Who knows what his future looks like?
Maybe it's karma for the parents. They've turned other people's kids into wrecks, ruined families left and right. Now it's their turn to feel what those parents went through.
Assuming they actually love their son, that is. Otherwise, it's just a tragedy for the kid.
(End of Chapter)