Read Online Dante's Poison by Lynne Raimondo - Free Book Online Page B

nineteen a few months before, in September.”
    â€œIsn’t that old for a high-school senior?”
    Levin laughed cynically. “You’re obviously not familiar with the Illinois school year—or North Shore parents. To enroll in kindergarten here you have to be five by September first or petition specially to get in, and that’s the last thing families in the New Trier feeder schools want. Most of them ‘redshirt’ their kids—hold them back for as long as they can get away with, so the kid can be bigger, stronger, and smarter than the rest of their classmates. Danny had been swimming since he was three, and his father, who’d made it all the way to the Olympic trials, wanted the boy to follow in his footsteps—or, if you prefer, swim strokes.”
    â€œSo the boy was under a lot of heat to succeed,” Rusty said.
    â€œNaturally, though in that respect no different than most of the kids in that pressure cooker they call a high school. Danny was also the oldest of three children. The other two were girls, so as far as the father was concerned they didn’t count. It’s amazing people still have these attitudes, but I see it all the time.”
    â€œWhat kind of business was the father in?”
    â€œTrader at the CBOE and as overbearing and insufferable as they come.”
    â€œAnd the mother?”
    â€œHomemaker. But not the usual trophy wife you find in Winnetka. Kind of mousey, actually, and planted firmly under her husband’s thumb. According to Danny, the father bullied her, and I’d bet good money he abused her physically too. Anyone who thinks domestic violence is limited to the poor should spend a few days in my practice.”
    â€œWas the father abusive to the boy, too?”
    â€œDanny didn’t say so explicitly, but I guessed it was going on. I think he was frightened of what might happen to him—as well as his mother—if he ratted out his dad. It’s in my notes. Have you had a chance to look at them yet?” he asked, before remembering about me. He stopped in embarrassment. “My apologies. That was insensitive of me.”
    Rusty came to my rescue. “Don’t worry about his tender feelings,” he said, clapping me on the back. “Next to Mark, the new mayor is a shrinking violet.”
    â€œAnd he’s only missing a finger,” I said.
    Levin let out the barest of chuckles. “OK, OK, I get it. Nothing but gallows humor around here.”
    I thought I ought to explain. “I did see your notes, in a manner of speaking, before coming here.” Yelena had come through with the transcription that morning. “But I was surprised you’re still doing it the old-fashioned way.”
    â€œI know. I know. I should have gone paperless long before now. My staff would certainly thank me for it. But somehow I can’t see myself tapping merrily away on an iPad while I’m talking to a seriously depressed patient.”
    â€œWas Danny in that category?” I asked, seeing an opening.
    â€œNot in my opinion, though he was presenting with a number of symptoms of moderate depression—anxiety, insomnia, a falling off of interest in his usual activities—when he first came to me. I started him on Placeva and adjusted the dosage a few times until his mood stabilized. He responded to it well, and we started doing forty-five-minute sessions once a week.”
    It was time to get down to business.
    There are about thirty thousand suicides in the United States each year, not a figure to be taken lightly yet still low enough to make suicide a comparatively rare event, as well as notoriously difficult to predict. Certainly a patient who has made several attempts before, lives alone or without supervision, and has expressed a persistent wish to die should be hospitalized. But between that extreme and someone who tests positive for ordinary depression, the possibilities abound. Even the