Chapter 382
[ 516 words ]
Chapter 382:
In the corner, on a small metal trolley, sat a used instrument tray a nurse had forgotten to return to sterile processing. Among the discarded gauze and plastic wrappers lay a disposable scalpel, its small plastic handle and gleaming steel blade catching the light.
“What are you going to do now, huh?” Melanie sneered, advancing on her. “Nowhere to run.”
She lunged, trying to grab Caroline’s hair. Caroline sidestepped the clumsy attack. As she moved, her hip bumped the instrument trolley. It tilted, and the metal tray slid off, crashing to the tile floor with a deafening clatter of steel.
The scalpel bounced, landing on the floor between them.
Caroline bent down and picked it up. She straightened, the small blade held loosely in her hand, its edge facing Melanie.
𝗡𝘦w 𝘸𝘦е𝗸𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝘩а𝗉t𝗲𝗿ѕ 𝗈𝗇 𝗴𝘢𝗅𝗻𝘰𝘃𝘦𝗅𝘀.𝘤о𝗆
The sight of the weapon finally pierced through Melanie’s rage. A flicker of genuine, primal fear entered her eyes. She took a step back.
“What are you doing?” she stammered, her voice losing its edge. “You’re crazy. Assault with a weapon… that’s a felony.”
Caroline didn’t say a word. She just took a slow, deliberate step forward, her eyes locked on Melanie’s.
Melanie was backed against a bank of lockers, trapped. Her fear curdled back into ugly insults. “You’re nothing! A pathetic, worthless slut! Nobody wants you!”
Hearing the words, feeling the walls of the room closing in, Caroline felt the last thread of hesitation snap. This was necessary.
“You did this,” Caroline whispered, her voice a ghost of a sound.
Melanie flinched, expecting the blade to slash toward her.
But Caroline didn’t move forward. Instead, she reversed her grip on the scalpel. In one swift, brutal motion, she dragged the blade across her own left forearm.
The cut was deep. Blood welled up, dark and shockingly red, spilling over the edges of the wound and dripping onto the floor. It soaked the sleeve of her white uniform, spreading in a rapidly growing stain.
Caroline let the scalpel drop from her numb fingers. It clattered to the floor. She slumped back against the lockers, her legs giving way, and let out a scream.
Outside, Jarrod heard the crash of the metal tray, followed by the muffled, frantic shouting. But it was the scream that made his blood run cold. He didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, putting his weight on his good side as he pushed against the door, feeling the ache of his healing shoulder as he forced the lock. The door flew open.
The scene that met his eyes burned itself into his brain.
Caroline was on the floor, slumped against the lockers in a pool of her own blood. Standing over her, looking down with a horrified expression, was Melanie Corbett.
Jarrod’s vision narrowed to a red tunnel. A guttural roar of pure, animalistic fury ripped from his throat.
Melanie spun around, her face white with terror. She started to babble, her hands held up in a gesture of frantic denial. “It wasn’t me! She did it to herself! I swear, she just—”
He crossed the room in a single, explosive stride. Using his dominant left hand, he dealt a precise, paralyzing blow to the side of her neck.
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