CHAPTER 1 - Blasphemy

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Malta - 2018

"Jesus fucking Christ! Are you trying to kill me, woman? Can't you drive this thing straight?"

Lora let go of the handles and shifted the heavy bags over her shoulders as she walked around the wheelchair to face the grim man. He had been complaining non-stop since daybreak and it was getting on her nerves. "You swear one more time, Jonathan Gerald Scicluna, and I will leave you right here in the middle of the parking lot!"

"Well, that's very holy of you. You call yourself a Christian?" the man spat back, his sharp, blue eyes almost popping out of their sockets. "You go to mass every day, but you would leave a crippled man to rot in a car park?"

Lora frowned at the scorn dripping from his voice. He knew very well what buttons to press to get her riled up and she hated it. If he wanted to play the victim, she may very well make him one. "It's a busy parking lot. Someone will find you eventually."

But Jonathan merely rolled his eyes at her quick wit. "Hilarious," he mumbled dryly.

Lora didn't see his lips twitch with humour. She went back to her position behind the wheelchair. Her lower back ached as she heaved him up the ramp, yet the woman did not complain. She pressed the elevator button and waited, her expression a mask of exemplary patience.

"We're late," the man griped as the steel doors opened to reveal a completely empty elevator.

Lora thanked the Heavens for that. The last thing Jonathan needed was people staring at him when he was in a mood. And dear Lord, was he in a mood today.

She sighed softly and wheeled him in, turning him to face the right way once inside. "You weren't in a hurry before we left," she replied, remembering how he found every excuse to delay their departure. For all his bravado, Jonathan hated hospitals and he had every reason to.

"I wasn't in a hurry because we weren't late when we left. I forgot you drive like a fucking grandmother."

The slight woman scowled at his profane language and almost told him off again, but just then, the doors opened to reveal their destination. Jonathan's face paled. Her own lungs contracted as her eyes zeroed in on the blue sign with bold, white letters.

Neurosurgical Ward.

Only seven months had passed since they exited those doors, hoping to never see them again. Lora knew the chances of that happening were slim. Her hands started to shake, so she gripped the handles of Jonathan's chair tighter. She prayed to the Lord for strength just as Jonathan cursed under his breath, and they made their way into the ward.

When they reached the Nurses' Station, they were met with cheers and smiling faces. Jonathan and Lora put on big, brave smiles themselves, but neither was genuine.

"Oh, my goodness, Lora! Jona! How are you?"

Lora shot a warning look at Jonathan, hoping he won't say anything mean, as she answered, "We're good, Nessy, thank you. What about you?"

"Same old, same old," the red-haired nurse smiled as she wobbled around the desk. "Come, follow me. We managed to clear your old room for you."

Lora's heart sank. She knew it was a kind gesture on the staff's part. It was the only single room on the ward. The only room that offered privacy. But that room held a lot of memories. Bad ones. She didn't know what Jona would make of the idea.

She bent down to ask him if he'd rather have another room if there was one available, but just then, a young girl in a nursing student's uniform came over and whisked Jonathan off to Room 7. He instantly dived into animated conversation with her, as though he wasn't in a bad mood and hospitals were on par with Disneyland.

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