I began crying.
"You do?"
She nodded.
"You let me hold it when I was frightened."
I covered my mouth.
For twenty years, I'd believed the hospital had been nothing but pain and darkness.
Now another person was remembering a moment of kindness I'd forgotten.
June looked down.
"I wasn't completely blind when I entered the program."
My heart tightened.
"What happened?"
"I had a condition affecting my vision. My parents were told the trial might prevent it from progressing."
Her voice trembled.
"After the treatment, my sight became much worse."
I listened.
June continued.
"When my parents complained, the hospital claimed my underlying condition was responsible."
"Did they believe that?"
"Not entirely. But they didn't have access to the complete research records."
I felt anger rise.
"Did anyone compensate you?"
June gave a humorless laugh.
"They offered my family a confidential settlement. My parents refused to sign away our right to ask questions."
