Chapter 367
[ 544 words ]
Chapter 367:
She twisted the cold tap, the water gushing out with a roar that filled the small space. She cupped her hands, splashing the icy water onto her face again and again. It did nothing to extinguish the fire in her gut, the cold dread coiling in her stomach. The nurses’ voices were still there, a relentless whisper behind the sound of the water.
…throwing millions of dollars into a fire. For what? Two more months of suffering?
The door creaked open behind her.
Caroline’s head snapped up. Melanie Thorne stood there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. A slow, triumphant smile spread across her face. It was the smile of a predator that had cornered its prey.
Caroline’s heart plummeted. She straightened up, turning off the water, the sudden silence deafening. She wiped her wet face with a rough paper towel, her movements stiff, forcing a mask of cold indifference over her features.
Melanie pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the room, her rubber-soled shoes squeaking on the tile. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes raking over Caroline with undisguised contempt.
“Look at you,” Melanie purred, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Like a drowned rat. I guess you heard the news?”
Caroline’s pupils contracted. She thought Melanie was referring to the gossip she must have overheard. But then Melanie reached into the pocket of her scrubs.
She pulled out a folded piece of paper and flicked it open. It was a photocopy. Even from a distance, Caroline could recognize the letterhead of the hospital’s pathology lab.
“Glioblastoma,” Melanie said, her voice dropping to a soft, cruel whisper. She savored the word, letting each syllable hang in the air like a shard of glass. “Such a shame. And he really thinks he’s going to get better.”
The word hit Caroline like a second detonation. Glioblastoma. The same clinical cruelty she had just heard whispered in the restroom, the word that had shattered her world not ten minutes ago. She had barely begun to process it, the wound still raw and hemorrhaging, and now Melanie was wielding it like a weapon, twisting it deeper. A tremor of pure, unadulterated rage shot through Caroline’s body. The muscle memory of her CIA training coiled tightly in her chest, urging her to neutralize the threat right here on the tiles. But her hands remained clenched into static fists at her sides. She forced herself to calculate the strategic cost—she couldn’t risk a public escalation or a police report that would compromise her undercover status, not when she was this close to uncovering the truth. “What do you want, Melanie? You know this is illegal.”
ոe𝗐 𝘄𝗲𝖾𝗄l𝘺 с𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵e𝗋𝘴 𝗼𝗇 𝘨𝘢𝗅𝘯о𝗏𝘦l𝘀.𝗰𝗼𝗆
Melanie laughed, a short, ugly sound. “Don’t talk to me about illegal, Thompson. Let’s talk about a deal.”
She leaned against the counter, the picture of casual cruelty. “It’s simple. I want a public apology for our little… misunderstanding in the locker room. And then I want your letter of resignation submitted to the administration by tomorrow morning.”
Caroline’s gaze narrowed into a razor-sharp, lethal stare, her breathing disciplined and rhythmic as she weighed her options. Her mind was screaming, but her body remained still. She couldn’t risk a scene. Not when Donovan was just down the hall.
“Go to hell,” she said, her voice low and steady.
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