An Invisible Client by Victor Methos Page B

Corwin said, “What does she have questions about?”
    “Are you certain it was cyanide that did this?”
    “Is that her asking or you?”
    “Both.”
    “The tests are conclusive. Yes, he had acute cyanide poisoning.”
    “Can you tell where the cyanide came from? Like, if it was man-made or natural?”
    “Natural cyanides are rare. The type found in his blood was inorganic, something commonly used in silver mining, actually.”
    “Huh. It seems like people would die pretty quick from cyanide. Was this a weaker form?”
    “Not really. The amount just wasn’t enough to kill, but it did extensive damage. I’m afraid Joel’s prognosis isn’t good.”
    I hesitated. “Why isn’t he on the transplant list?”
    Dr. Corwin’s brows drooped and he sighed. “Organs, particularly child organs, are extremely rare. We have to prioritize based on likelihood of survival of the recipient. Joel’s kidneys are damaged beyond repair, but his liver is damaged, as well. Within six months, he would need a transplant for that. We also have damage to the heart and lungs that may not even manifest right away. I simply don’t know how long he has left. To transplant him now would . . .”
    I knew what he was thinking and that he didn’t want to say it aloud in front of a lawyer. “Would be a waste of an organ.”
    “I didn’t say that,” he quickly added. “It just might take away from someone with a higher chance of survival. It’s not an easy decision, but it’s one our board had to make.”
    “But it’s not impossible,” Olivia said. “I’ve read there’ve been cases of people with HIV or other terminal illnesses getting organs. If you really wanted to make it happen, couldn’t you?”
    “Young lady, there is nothing I’d like more than to give that boy an organ. But to give him one means there’s another little boy who won’t have one. A little boy who can probably survive and grow old and have children of his own. I’m sorry, but that’s just life.”
    I inhaled deeply. “How long does he have?”
    “I don’t know. Not long.”
    I nodded. “Thanks for your time.”
    I rose to leave, and Olivia followed me out. When we reached the corridor, she shook her head. “He’s passing the buck. If one person in this whole process really took a stand and fought for Joel, they’d get him an organ.”
    “Do you know if a woman is being attacked or beaten, it’s actually better to have one person see it than thirty? That’s because if there’s thirty people that see it, everyone will think someone else will help. If it’s only one person, they can’t think that way and will likely help. That happened in a rape case in New York. People are set up to pass the buck. I don’t blame the doctor.”
    “Well, that’s not depressing or anything.” She sighed. “So, what now?”
    “I wanna do something really quick. I’ll meet you at the car.”
    I stood outside Joel’s room for a second and wondered whether I really should go in there. The case wasn’t good, and Walcott was probably the top defense litigation firm in the state. Bob could bury us with money and paperwork and have us tied up in court for the next decade. I touched the doorknob but didn’t turn it. Then I looked down both directions of the corridor, turned the knob, and went inside.
    Joel was watching television. His mother wasn’t there. He smiled when he saw me.
    “Hi, Noah.”
    I stood at the foot of his hospital bed. “Hey.” I glanced up at the television. A cartoon was playing. “What you watching?”
    “I don’t know. I didn’t see the name. What’re you doin’ here?”
    “Just came to check up on you. Where’s your mom?”
    “She went home to get some more clothes.” He tried to sit up and grimaced with pain.
    “Let me help.”
    I took him gently under the arms and lifted him higher onto his pillows. He was as light as a blanket. I could feel his bones through his flesh, and the feeling lingered on my hands after I let