‘What are we talking about?’
‘You being on Facebook. Grandparents do a lot of child rearing these days, given they own all the property and us poor schmucks have to slave away just to get enough of a deposit to live in some shithole an hour and half from the city. They’re a key target market for you.’
Kelly was tired of this nonsense. She raised a hand to stop Juliana from speaking. ‘Okay, that’s enough. We’re done here. I guarantee you I won’t be wasting time with social media in the last two weeks before my exam.’
Juliana raised her hands in defeat. ‘All right, all right. I get it.’
‘Thank you, Juliana. I’m sure you’ve got good intentions, but I’m really not the right person for all this.’
Juliana smiled, which made Kelly nervous. She suspected – very deeply, given the remaining glint in Juliana’s eyes – that the communications adviser didnotget it. Not one little bit.
Juliana took hold of Kelly’s hand. ‘I’m here for you, Kelly, and I won’t let anything bad happen.’
‘With what?’
‘With your social media.’
Kelly gritted her teeth. ‘I just told you – I’m not doing social media.’
Juliana let go of Kelly’s hand so she could return to her phone screen, flicking and tapping with expert precision. Seconds later, and with a satisfied little grunt, Juliana held her phone up in front of Kelly. ‘Well, somebody’s going to have to break the bad news to your ten thousand followers.’
Kelly’s jaw and stomach dropped in unison. On the screen was her Instagram account: her photo, her bio, her doctor emoji; none of which she had set up.
The sinking feeling in her stomach began to stir and liquefy into a hot, burning pool of rage. She turned her searing eyes on Juliana. ‘What the fuck did you do?’
***
‘You didn’t answer any of my DMs!’
Kelly paused at the threshold of Finn’s apartment. She’d just let herself in with her own key. ‘What are you talking about?’
Finn stood up from his couch. He was wearing lightweight track pants and a T-shirt that snuggled around his biceps. He was also smiling like the village idiot. ‘My direct messages. First, you start an Instagram account without even telling me and then you completely ignore me when I send you semi-abusive messages about your betrayal of trust.’
Kelly’s throat closed over so she could barely breathe. Before she could stop herself, she burst into tears, right there at the entrance to the apartment with her bag still on her shoulder and the door held ajar with her arm.
‘Whoa, whoa, what’s wrong? What’s happened?’ Finn rushed to her, took her hand away from the door and slid her bag off her shoulder before wrapping her up in a hug that was both firm and gentle at the same time.
Kelly dropped her head onto his chest and sobbed. ‘I’m okay,’ she blubbered.
‘Clearly.’
She chuckled despite herself. Her tears and snot were soaking into Finn’s shirt but she didn’t move. She couldn’t yet. ‘I’ve just had a really rough day.’
Kelly felt Finn’s shoulders relax. He rubbed her back gently. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Did you lose a special patient?’
Kelly had lost patients often enough that she had long ago developed a defensive layer that allowed her to distance her own emotions from their pain and the pain of their families. But every now and again, a special one broke down that defence: the little girl who told Kelly she knew magic was real because she saw the sparkles around her when her mum stroked her hair as she lay in the hospital bed; or the eight-year-old boy who asked Kelly to keep an eye on his mum and dad after he died because they weren’t as organised as him and would need help when he was gone.
Finn’s question helped Kelly to refocus. No precious children had died today, taking their hopes and dreams and futures to the grave with them.
She took a deep breath and drew her head back from Finn’s stained T-shirt. ‘No, it’s nothing like that,’ she croaked. She swallowed hard and wiped her tears away. ‘It’s just that I thought it was all going to end when the article came out. But now they want me on social media and I have to give up four study hours to appear in the appeal.’
‘The Care for our Kids Appeal?’
She nodded.
‘But you’ll have done your exam.’
‘The written, yes. But I still have to study for the clinical.’
