Plague Saint [NOW A PUBLISHED BOOK]

Chapter Two: In Sight and Mind

Winter's heart hammered against its cage. Was he accusing her of something?

"So, you understand why I haven't been here much," Adams continued. "And why I've only been able to communicate with you through letters. And letters can easily fall into the wrong hands."

Winter needed to say something. Anything. "Of course."

"That being said, I do find it interesting that survival rates have increased so dramatically over the past couple of weeks."

This is what she'd been afraid of. There was a status quo, and no matter how many entries she read in the Saint's notes, there were things she couldn't replicate: relationships, habits, and all the little details of whatever agreement he had with the hospital director.

"I've made some rapid progress in my treatments."

Adams leaned forward. "I understand that being mysterious and aloof is your thing, but don't forget that I'm the one paying you." His voice lowered. "I also understand that I haven't been able to communicate my desires for our patients. But I'm back now. And I'm very close friends with the owner of the factory River Pierce works at. This whole incident is a lawsuit waiting to happen, if he survives. Or worse, protests."

Adams rose to his feet. "Medicine is expensive," he continued. "I think we should keep Pierce on Red-X for now. That should do just fine, don't you think?"

A Red-X-only treatment schedule would kill River. Winter stood up, mirroring Adams. "I agree."

So much for Winter's plan of billing the factory and saving her family from even more debt. She watched the back of Adam's head as he approached the door. Her best option was to sneak the better treatment to River somehow, right? Blame his recovery on pure luck? Pray Adams wouldn't question her further?

Adam paused. "Oh, and I'd like you to get me an update on Andersen's payment by the end of the day. Otherwise, I'm sending the bill to the city guard. If you have time, maybe track down his next of kin and give them a warning? But don't concern yourself too much with it, if you're busy."

Winter's jaw clenched. She nodded. She knew from her time working in the guard office exactly what would happen: the guard would track down whatever poor soul was Andersen's closest living relative, and if they couldn't pay the bill, they'd be thrown in jail. Or at the very least, be thrown out of their home.

Winter couldn't let that happen. But she was on thin ice as it was. Clearly, the Plague Saint had been picking and choosing who to save based on Adams' requests. Monsters. Both of them. And the factory owner, as well. Winter paced back and forth across the office. With Adams back, she'd probably have to stop sharing new information with the other doctors.

Well, Winter had already killed one man...

By accident, she reminded herself. She dismissed the thought as soon as it entered her mind. It was insane. She couldn't just kill the hospital director.

The door opened, and Winter braced herself for the director to give her even worse news, but it wasn't him. It was Phoebe. Phoebe, with tears streaming down her face and a folded piece of paper in one of her clenched fists.

Oh, God. What was Winter supposed to do? "Is something wrong?" she asked. Did she sound concerned enough? Or did she sound too concerned, for someone as supposedly mysterious and aloof as the Plague Saint?

Phoebe sniffed. "Director came by earlier. Said the hospital's budget is being slashed, and he has to cut my pay in half."

That was rather absurd, considering the pay raise the Saint had been given last week. Adams hadn't said anything about cutting pay. "I'm sorry," Winter said.