Chapter 75
[ 506 words ]
Chapter 75:
“Shut up, Tammy!” Melanie screamed, her voice cracking with pure hysteria. She glared at Caroline, her eyes burning with a toxic mix of hatred and absolute dread.
Caroline took a slow step back. She smoothed down the front of her blue scrubs, restoring her perfect, untouchable posture.
“If you ever,” Caroline said, enunciating every single syllable with lethal precision, “try to pull a stunt like this again, I promise you, that evidence will be sitting on an FBI agent’s desk before your shift ends.”
She didn’t wait for a response. She turned her back on the two trembling women.
Caroline walked to the door, unlocked the deadbolt, and pulled it open. She stepped out into the hallway, leaving them suffocating in the smell of bleach and their own terror.
The heavy door swung shut behind her.
Caroline let out a long breath. Her shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. The psychological warfare had drained her, but she had established absolute dominance.
Inside the locker room, Tammy was crying hysterically. Melanie was pacing the floor, chewing violently on her thumbnail.
The fear was eating Melanie alive, but the toxic, narcissistic pride in her chest refused to accept defeat.
Melanie stopped pacing. She glared at the closed door. She didn’t believe it. Caroline was a nobody. She was bluffing.
Melanie grabbed her stethoscope. She was going to go to ICU Room 3 and see the monitor for herself.
ѕ𝘁𝘰𝗿𝗂es 𝘆ou 𝘄𝗈ո’t 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝖽о𝘄ո oո 𝗴a𝘭𝗇𝗼𝘷𝗲𝘭𝗌.со𝗺
Melanie shoved the crying Tammy aside and marched out of the locker room.
Her rubber-soled shoes squeaked softly against the linoleum as she crept down the hallway. She hugged the wall, her eyes darting around like a cornered rat.
Tammy trailed ten feet behind her, wiping her snotty nose on her sleeve, too terrified to stay in the locker room alone but too scared to get close.
The corridor leading to the ICU was dead quiet. The silence made the frantic, hammering rhythm of Melanie’s heart sound like a drum in her ears. Her brain was spinning, desperately trying to convince herself that Caroline was just a pathetic liar trying to scare them.
Melanie reached the heavy wooden door of Room 3 and stopped. She pressed her back against the wall and slowly slid her head over, pressing her face against the narrow, rectangular observation glass built into the door.
She peered into the dim room.
The patient was lying perfectly still on the bed, chest rising and falling in a steady, rhythmic motion.
Melanie’s eyes flicked to the heart monitor mounted on the wall. The bright green line was moving across the black screen, peaking in perfect, healthy intervals.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Every single chirp of the machine felt like a physical slap across Melanie’s face. The trap had failed. Caroline hadn’t injected the poison.
A wave of absolute, crushing despair washed over Melanie. Her knees buckled. She grabbed the metal door frame with both hands just to keep herself from sliding onto the floor. Cold sweat dripped down her spine.
“What’s the matter?”
The voice was entirely devoid of warmth. It came from directly behind Melanie’s right ear, less than three inches away.
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