It was a cloudless day and the dazzling sun graced the clear blue sky. The morning air was supposed to be fresh with its wintry gush but today, it was contaminated with plumes of vehicular exhaust along with toxic pollutants from ships in the bay. The inert trees without their expanse of green seemed to agree that the world was truly dying, each day—every day. While people protested and organized strikes for green peace, no such qualm was seen to solve this problem in the near future....which could deliberately erase that future.
And also while people tried to adjust to this new world of lead-laden obnoxious pudding, if you peered closely, you could see a tiny doctor barging through the doors of Edenbrook— heading straight towards the infamous southern wing. She might me small, but today her anger made loaded mighty. Every nurse and intern, and even some senior residents on her vehement path purposefully skidded away rather than facing the wrath of gods she was bringing along with her.
That's me folks.
I bend into the almost-completed section, and aimed straight at the guards who were in front of a lit office. They blocked the passage of course and I spat in their face, "Let me at him or else I will dissect every organ of your body and throw them in the lava pools of Mt. Etna!"
They were taken by surprise at my outburst, almost staggering a step back. My breath was heaving in and out like a drilling machine accompanied by rage which was churning inside me. I went on them again when the door opened and a shiny faced Declan Nash poked his head out.
"That's okay guys. She's harmless."
Harmless!? I'll show you that.
I pushed past the burly guards, noticing that I was only at their elbow level. Still, I pffed into Declan's posh office and whirled my head at him.
"You have exactly seven seconds before I slam your head in your polished desk and relish on your brain matter!"
"First of all, gross." Declan wrinkled his nose, "Clam down, Charlotte. No need of ma—"
I almost jumped on him, "How dare you! You released a prisoner on early bail? How much did you pay for him? And why the hell?"
"Jesus. You doctors are like gossiping housewives." Declan's face twisted, "Our VP decided that he was more useful to us outside rather than behind the bars."
"Do you know what he was in for?!" I screamed, almost feeling that the lights overhead would explode from the sudden onslaught of catastrophic vexation coursing out in my brain waves.
Declan watched me for a second, his swaggering posture hinting that he was going to play it smooth upon me. The biggety in his eyes almost made me render my first statement of bashing his brain true. But I knew, inside the shield of my anger—an uncertain fear was rising. About Landry.
Then he sighed, sliding a finger on his desk before adjusting the tie on his expensive grey colored suit, "Can we please sit and have at least a productive conversation without me calling my guards inside for protection."
A wicked smile rose in my face, "I thought I was harmless."
"You are far from that." He gritted his white teeth, "I will never make that mistake twice with you. Please sit."
I pulled the chair rather too hard and plopped my supposedly harmless form in the plush settee. Everything of his office spoke of richness and exorbitant taste. And for the record, Ethan's office was still far off the scale than Declan's—and million times more comfortable. This one felt as if little puppies and kitties were brought in to torture.
Declan spread his hands, "Look. I know this matter is of personal reason for you. But there is absolutely nothing for you to worry. Dr. Landry Olsen poses no certain harm, and in fact I have instructed him to stay far away from you or else face ramification." He gave me a brief smile, "I truly care for you."
"Oh sweet Apollo, your extreme devotion for my cause is actually gonna make me barf." I threw him a black look, "Unbelievable. Un-freaking-believable, Nash!"
"I know it's hard for you to accept the current circumstances but you must understand that this is how the world works."
"Yep. Call in potential murderers to become your next Robin, isn't it? Hell. Why even I am talking to you now, I should just file another case in the court." I snagged a glance of his laptop which displayed a fascinating application, "Why would your VP think Landry is helpful?"
"I am not exactly allowed to discuss our company business, Charlotte."
I slammed a fist on the table, "Then we are done here. I am going for a petition to remove you from this hospital. Don't care what the financial states are, if you are not gonna answer me right now, you can screw up around other rat nests in the country."
Declan gave me a dirty look before switching off his laptop—after having noticed my stare lingering upon it. There must be something in that...wait, why even was I thinking? There definitely were many things about Panacea in his laptop and now my brain headed towards the directions to steal it and record every data I could find. Sweet.
"We will talk because I want to. And you will never repeat about this." Declan ordered, leaning forward.
I rolled my eyes, tampering the itch to push him back, "Sure. Suit up, Zemo."
He made a steeple of his fingers, "I was told to bail Landry Olsen out. Instructed by my superior which I can never deny." He paused and stole a glance at a frame on his side. I had earlier failed to notice that it was a photo frame where two dark haired teenagers beamed at the camera. "I have a job just like you do. I have to earn to have a stable life for me and my family." When his eyes rose to me, I found them clouded, "I might be an asshole in your eyes but I know the difference between right and wrong."
"And yet you are doing it." I shot.
His lips thinned, "And yet I am doing it."
The preceding clutch of enmity withdrew into wisps of indistinct indulgence and in its place, awakened rightfulness. Last night, with Aurora's announcement came the storm which shook our small group. None of us liked Landry—our loathing for him was steeped beyond the summit of Matterhorn, and after everything he did to me, the prospect of hearing even his name flared up searing resentment. He first filled into our lives, hiding the venomous snake slithering underneath his skin and we became close friends. And then...he made my life hell.
It was somewhere my fault as well. I should've seen his growing bitterment from the moment he manhandled me in empty atrium after the weekly results of fellowship was declared. If Ethan hadn't intervened that time, I could've easily spotted a mark of jealousy in form of a bruise. That was the moment perhaps everything changed...that snake within him finally hissed to strike me. To immobilize me. To embarrass me in the hospital, around my peers so that he could sneak his position way to top—and worship his idol.
I followed the art of severe mercy when it came to forgiving people. In truth, I never forgave them easily—it was too difficult for me to accept forgiveness after being battered down like a destroyed pillar of nothingness. I could place this idealism solely because of my upbringing, mostly during the period of Sylvan's serious illness and afterwards. I never forgave my parents or family, so why should I even think of forgiving someone like Landry? He almost succeeded in what my father started.
How could he be still out there...free?
Make mistakes and then give them time to be atoned. Make mistakes and then ignore, shall you accept my severe transformation.
Right now, I needed to acquire informative standards from this AVP of Panacea Labs so that I could place these rising events in understandable reference. Moping around harebrained information was going to do me no good. And if Declan wanted me to become calm, then I also knew to play the lurch.
I lowered my eyes, trying to feign vulnerability, "You almost succeeded in unleashing me that night by bringing Sylvan's name in front of everyone. The vacation behind the bars must have delighted you."
He ignored my last comment, "It was never meant to happen. You left me no choice." Declan's eyes lingered on my face, "For what I did then, I am sorry."
Swash....so easy for them to say that word without ever valuing its relevance.
"I don't know how close you both were. Sylvan had been moving around East Coast since his Phd. He never mentioned being familiar with Panacea." I said, clutching my coat to conceal my shaking hands. He didn't have the same ordeal over me like before but how could I forget those hazel eyes like mine and that smile with ignited my world with content. The only human being who let me live and dream, let me survive my childhood around my patronizing family. Let me remember that there was always the peaceful stillness beyond raging tides.
I missed him so damn freaking much.
"I know where this is going. You snooped around the workstations in the late R&D department here and found a folder of his name, didn't you?" Declan grounded his jaw, "You do realize that could have been much worse. Without the evidences, you could have been fired and...I don't know. Much worse."
"And yet here I am, safe and sound and adamantly active." I replied and gazed at the photo frame, "Those your daughters?"
"They are. Keep them out of this discussion."
Sensitive topic. Time to stroke that feather with good will, "Then you do realize how much of this is personal to me. First you say Sylvan's never known with your association and then I encounter his empty folder. He might be...gone for a long time but he's family."
"You should stop hovering around Panacea. There's nothing I can do for you if they label you as danger for their company."
I scoffed, "I don't need your protection. You almost fired me on the first place, remember?"
"You stole from my briefcase!"
"And you experimented on an innocent woman who had no idea of what was going on! She was suffering for a decade when she could have seen the world!" I pointed a finger at him, "How does that feel? Making humans suffer in the confinement of their own dreadful misery just because you want to roll some more stashes in and patent for the drug few years later? How does that feel? Imagine yourself in her shoes. Imagine your world revolving around the premises of a hospital where everyone saw you as a responsibility. Imagine the anguish in your mind of never being cured again and dying in the four-walls of pristine whiteness!"
Declan didn't meet my eyes and I realized this man could possibly be dealt rationally. Perhaps if I could somehow sway a particular emotion..."At least I gave her a chance to breathe the air of meadows, to see the world and live for her husband. Two days ago, a patient of mine ran her painting exhibition because her late husband wanted her to live her dreams. We do everything for our family and love. We will always do for them...so please tell me, why was Sylvan's name in that computer."
He rubbed his forehead, "Do not repeat this." I nodded, nervy, "I think investigative personality runs in your family. Sylvan Turner after his Phd was recruited by an assemblage of private pharmaceutical companies to carry forward research upon incurable diseases. Your cousin was extraordinarily talented—another thing in the genes. I do not know the details of that operation because I just a low-key member that time of Panacea but it was one of the assemblages. Something happened two years later after the joining—someone threw in the information that human trials were going on. Several of them. In several hospitals. It was believed that Sylvan was responsible for the documents to be rapported out." He smiled, "Again, runs in the family."
This new information countered my respiration. It almost stilled my thought-processing, solidifying the neural network for an abrupt shutdown. Shock would be a minute word to describe the current state I was thrown into. It was almost like an interface had formed between liability and insanity. It was as if there was almost next to nothing I knew about Sylvan's work.
And the most scary—as if I didn't know him....at all.
I gulped, rigid with distress, "He never discussed about his work and everyone believed he was doing some research. I never knew he worked for...this assemblage. What was it called?"
"Nothing." Declan simply said, "Or at least nothing that I know of. Like I said, the moment those files were out...everything was shutdown. Hundreds of employs out of jobs, all those tests stopped. It was a difficult period for private pharmas after investing millions of dollars for the research. But most importantly, you should understand that Sylvan was believed...never confirmed. Has he ever visited Edenbrook?"
"He must have." I replied, "He moved around untenured shifts. Could have come here."
"Then that's why that file existed. Do not ask me about the contents because even I have no clue regarding it. All the data was submitted to the state after R&D was stripped down."
I understood what Declan was trying to do here. He wanted me to know that everything was out to the state about Panacea's operation and all matters were tied in. If anyone believed that, I would stow them alone in the Pacific Ocean. There was no way...no freaking way every goddamn information would be capitulated to government. These sneaky bastards have been running human trials for god knew how long—Apollo knew how long in the world itself and there was no way they would let anyone sniff of the major deal going here.
There was always more to than shown before.
But the question was...should I get back on track to search for those missing information or just leave it be. And after everything in my life—going on currently in my life, the latter was sustainable.
Sorry Sylvan. I can't...I can't make the effort you were trying to make. Not at least now. Not when someone... out there could harm me.
"So why Landry?" I asked, "Why him of all people?"
"Honestly?" Declan spread his hands, "I swear of both my daughters. I don't fucking know. No idea why. I was told to do so, and I did."
I felt deflated, "This isn't going anywhere. You cannot expect me to accept that the company which is Edenbrook's major licensed partner is allowing criminals to roam in other hospitals?"
"In case you have forgotten-" he curved his lips, "Not every hospital in Boston are doing particularly well after the state budgets were announced. Mass Kenmore was already understaffed and their recruitment isn't as thrilling as Edenbrook here. We partook for that position in exchange for being their shareholder as well."
Translation: Let's spread out Panacea's itsy-bitsy webs all around these struggling medical institutions.
"So...you still bring in criminals?" I leaned back, regarding him.
He let out a needled sigh, "He's harmless, Charlotte. He will not do anything to jeopardize a second chance in this career. Think about it, he's no longer at Edenbrook and he's got no deal here, why would he throw a provided opportunity under the bus?"
"Uh, because human nature is as stubborn as killer instincts? Inventiveness is optional." I sarcastically replied, "You've done nice clean-up here. Care to share why would you carve a Pantheon when this place could possibly shut down?"
"Edenbrook might. But will Panacea?" he landed a coy smile.
I replied with a disgusted look, "Is health of no value to you?"
"Health is wealth, my dear. Figuratively and technically." He waved his hands, "What you call higher education, we simply label it as business opportunity."
They were definitely plotting something else here as well. Something like...to take full control of these hospitals? Have an autonomy of every healthy institution and do whatever they could? Like they did that hospital in Florida?
Do...not...think about that, now. Figure the fuck out later.
"If you do something to maim Edenbrook again, I'll burn Panacea down, Declan." My voice harbored constrained rile, "Not so harmless, am I?"
Declan scowled at me, as if he was more irritated than offended, "Talk like that and it will be you instead. What you and Ramsey did last time brought you under severe watchlook of Panacea. They are watching your every moment...your life. Do not give them a chance to think that you are a threat. Please"
I was surprised by the way he spoke the last word as if it truly worried him, "What will happen?"
He looked at his daughters and almost whispered, "The worst."
---------------
It should be noted that the velocity I took to reach the southern wing farfetched the speed I was walking out, almost in a near-dejected posture. Okay, not so dejected but definitely not satisfied.
So much information...well enough or not? Enough to move on or mope?
Enough to let the person who tried to murder me go?
I wasn't impatient when it came to religion. My family, irrespective of falling into the traps of deadly sins had always dedicated their free hours (which were like non-existent) to spend in the holy grounds. I was always dragged along to church, listening to the reverend reciting words—almost unending. The guy understood that my concentration inside was equal to the wing-flapping of a fly, so he advised me (don't know how their temper never shows up) to ask my problems to whomever I believed.
Naturally that would be Apollo, but since he was the god of music, archery, khumbayah, truth and prophecy, healing and medicine....oh, diseases and plagues as well, sun and light and poetry and oracles and being ephebe and patron of seafarers, foreigners and protectors and blah and blah....so you see, this guy already has a lot on plate so I couldn't bother him with my problems. Poor dude would run away and mourn in the cape of his twin sister.
It was on me then.
I couldn't let it go...not yet. It wasn't easy to relate that every human being was flawed and their acts were based upon harried judgment. We all were imperfect beings in the imperfect world, trying to make it better every day...but while someone out there was trying to make an effort, there were also those who shook of the exertion. Was Landry remorseful of his deed? Was he now seeking for my forgiveness? Did I even have the strength to forgive him?...or why even forgive at all?
"Well aren't you a lonely little thing."
I jumped at the voice, heart sky-rocketing after realizing that I was absent-mindedly boring a hole in the nearby wall while someone had snuck behind me. I knew who it was...that rat like skittering voice with ability to induce fear was unmistakable.
At a side way glance, Dr. Garret Thorne stood, leering at me from his height. He was wearing surgical scrubs which meant he was just out of a recent surgery and found me to torment. With his face came the words...the threat...the menace in his voice which made me balance that fear by jumping into an elevator and have a near-nervous breakdown.
"Dr. Thorne." I said in a chipped tone, deciding to move away rather than talk to this locust.
My feet minced past him.
Of course the locust followed behind, "Going out too soon? Can't have two words with me?"
"As a matter of fact, I am on duty, doctor, just like you and my patients wait." I replied without looking over my shoulders. The adamant footsteps still followed, irking me further.
"As a matter of fact you should stop and listen to me before I sue your intern for—"
I whipped back, "You know what? I think you don't understand the meaning of no here. No means goddamn fucking no. Can't you get that under your brain?!"
"Did you forget what I showed you last time?" an indecent curve of lips made him look even more filthy, "The woman?"
I crossed my arms, "If you think blackmailing me by showing a woman who has been in coma for thirteen years is going to shatter my resolve, then you are completely delusional. Man's caliber lies in his interpretation of provoking fear by shoving a conscience-stricken incident of someone else' life and honestly, what good is that gonna do to me? Do you think I am gonna force my intern to sleep with you?!" I spat at him, "You pathetic excuse of a doctor! A stain for our workplace!"
Suddenly his hand shot out and he gripped my arm, painfully, "Lower that voice or else it wouldn't be your intern facing serious charges. I can claim your name as well, providing assistance to an assailant."
"Assailant?!" I gave him an incredulous look, "You were the one who refused to let her go. She is allowed to defend herself from someone who is harassing her! How dare you to badger my intern! How dare you threaten her to roll down your sheets?! How dare you to BLACKMAIL ME!"
"You women should just take what's given. Life too harsh for your type of girls in the world." He leaned closer, "I can make life better. I promise, the revelry will extend beyond the confinement of this building."
For a moment all I saw was red before my eyes. In my mind, I launched myself at Garret Thorne and clawed at his face before kicking him in the nuts and bowing him down. Then I took the nearby I.V stand in the gurney and stabbed through his neck, killing him instantly.
But that would be completely unwise and no matter how difficult it was not react at his words, I knew I couldn't...because he could really press some serious charges against Esme and with us having nothing against him except witnesses at the bar, I couldn't actually prove that his harassment has been continuing beyond that night— with my intern and now at me.
"Thankfully" I wretched my hand away, "My life is goddamn great and I totally don't need your insolent face hovering in my surrounding. In fact, I do not want you anywhere near me or Eseme Ortega and if I see you, I am gonna shove you down the bars for harassment and manhandling!"
"You are making a mistake, Charlotte Turner." He glowered, so close that I could see the fine lines of aging on his face and disgusting mind roomed behind that skull, "You don't understand my position here. You are just a non-existing resident and I..."
Before he could complete the words, I spared him a burning gaze with even shut my mother, "Do you know about Denisovans?"
"What?" he dropped with a confused glance.
I nodded, taking cautioned steps back, "The reason Denisovans and Neanderthals are extinct because they got too choosy. Started poaching on their so called 'types'. I advise you to deter your path from now on because you really don't want history to repeat with you, do you Dr. Thorne?"
With that...I swiftly padded away, leaving him alone with coloratura.
---------------
Out of the forsaken corridor, I felt overwhelmed momentarily and plopped myself down on a seat near nurse's station and groaned.
Seriously, what the hell was wrong with this plastic surgeon? Couldn't he just leave my intern alone?
Apparently not.
The real deal after the incident at bar lasted longer than I had thought. I thought after having a fractured hand and reputation was going to shut down Thorne's further attempts at being extremely creepy. But ostensibly, it fuelled his sick fascination to provoke reactions with my stubborn intern. Esme never told me that even after days, Thorne had been creeping around her like a beslubbering reptile, trying to take her might within his chokehold. It wasn't until that day I dropped Kyra at the interview and caught up Thorne in the way, that I realized things have been in the water for bit longer than perceived.
And sickening further was the way Thorne pulled me in front of a private ward and showed a woman who has been in coma for thirteen-freaking years. I don't know her case but I knew Thorne's exact words to me,
"You see her? Look at her..." he forced my face, "LOOK AT HER!"
I did, "What do you want here?"
".Just look at her and remember. I can make life even worse than her. Keep that face in mind the next time I ask your intern nicely to pay a visit to my house. Maybe you can join her as well, three's the game you know?"
My stomach roiled just as time a threat of burnout wrapped me in its ensnarement. Moving between Declan and Panacea and Landry and Sylvan and secret trials and Thorne— this day was proving to be too staggering than anticipated.
Esme...what can I do for her now? Should I involve others or deal with this myself?
I buried my face in my hands and let out another exhausted groan. Last night, sleep was the minikin fish which got away from imaginary net of mine spread in the ocean of inconclusiveness. I tossed and turned in my bed, waking up every two hours to open my windows and run a cautionary scan over the empty streets in the night. Darkness of the alleys and silence of my locality greeted me along with the fear of being prowled by a potential trigger person....so sleep was pretty much off the record until I confronted Declan.
I can just sit here for a moment...forget everything and close my eyes.
I did that, leaning my head on the wall and shut my lids.
"Dr. Turner?!" a voice yelled.
My vision snapped back, "What the fu—?"
I clamped a hand in my mouth before that expletive could be thrown at Amanda, our staff nurse. She blinked at me, "Dr. Turner? You are needed in Diagnostics Department's ward. We have a patient and Dr. Ramsey has called in for you...and he's very angry."
I cringed.
Shit. Gwyneth was here.
---------------
Nodding a mute affirmation to the nurse, I pushed myself off the seat—almost glancing at it with sadness before leaving the floor. Alright, Charlotte. Focus. Focus on what mattered now...not the musing of minutes before. You can shove your face in the water later but now, you were to deal with a celebrity.
The DD wards were located in the fifth floor, casually away from the private wards. Nobody wanted to mingle the high-level patients with pro-bono ones which would be well...not good in sights. Corridors ran busy today as interns moved around me, nurses hauling their carts to deliver assistance to patients. I passed by Zaid who was chewing up an intern— Aurora's intern who moped around like a lone soul. Since Aurora was no longer his mentor, Zaid took upon himself to batter him good. It seemed he was back to his perfection as a solitary scowling brute.
Just before I could reach the section of wards, Sienna appeared in front of me, her face panicked, "Charlotte!"
"Hey, what's wrong?"
She pinched me, "Things are about to get worst. Did you piss Ramsey again?"
Again?
"What—?"
"DR. TURNER!!" Ethan's voice thundered from a hallway which halted everyone as if Dr. Strange kowtow the time stone. Every human being in the corridor was currently paralyzed by terror, pale with fear and hands shaking upon different holds. The nurses glanced at me, almost giving me pitied looks before breaking from their sessile mode and dashed away. Wide-eyed interns deliberately shoved themselves on their tablet screen as my fuming boss stopped before me, almost teleporting from the corner with fury blazing in blue eyes and jaw set tight.
Uh...oh.
Sienna was whispering frantically beside me, "Uh—uh, he is back! Dr. Ramsey the intern-terminator is back! What should we do?"
I frowned at her, "Nothing. Let me see what's gotten him riled up."
She gave me a thin smile before running away. I turned to Ethan who was just perhaps seconds away from exploding like a hydrogen bomb. I, of course knew the heart of matter here—since I was responsible for it. Still, I tried to be a benevolent soul.
"Dr. Ramsey? How can I help?"
"....Rookie." Ethan chucked the word at me, dipped with sarcasm, "What have you done?"
"What?"
"It's better if you come with me." He flashed me another one of those shouldering termination looks before briskly turning away. I followed him around the crook of ingress, wards saved for DD and was pointed an angry finger at the window.
"WHAT IS THIS?!" Ethan barked near me, "This very insistent woman arrived today and told us we were 'hired'! That someone from the diagnostics team having a voice of siren called her in! Apparently price is no object. The board is TRHILLED!"
The last word almost echoed as if Linkin Park decided to switch for heavy metal.
Siren? She thought my voice was like a siren? Swash.
Inside the immaculate room, Gwyneth's familiar golden blonde hair guided my attention. She was wearing a patient's gown— the light blue lithe thingy as three of her camera crew were already rolling, shooting every second of her supposed treatment. Those three men, obvious of this building paid no attention to an anxious Baz who was trying to reason them out. June was sitting at Gwyneth's beside, clasping her hands tight and speaking.
"That's Gwyneth Monroe, beauty and lifestyle vlogger. She's here!" I pleaded a hesitant smile at Ethan who remained expressionless.
"Why did you do it? I told you not to but you still went behind my back." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his hands, "I did not expect this from you."
My eyes flashed at him, "So are we gonna kick her out?! She's a patient and is suffering from something nobody is able to figure out! She's a human being and deserves to be treated, does she not?"
Ethan's forehead creased, "You don't understand, Charlotte. This...this isn't what we are—" he sighed, "Leave it. Let's go in."
I pushed through the room, catching June's words, "I'm a long term subscriber, and frankly, your five-step morning skincare routine changed my life."
Gwyneth giggled, "Really? That's such a compliment from someone whose skin glows as brightly as yours."
At the sound of my entry, the vlogger's head turned in my direction and she jumped with glee, "Are you Dr. Turner? OH MY GOD! So young and holy shit! You look damn beautiful for a doctor, will you model for my videos? "
My brows quirked up as Ethan barged inside, demanding, "Alright, get those cameras off. I want everyone out."
Every camera in the room whipped around to face him. He blinked, taken aback by the sudden attention before the signature scowl returned and he glared at every lens as if his eyes alone could destroy every breathing being watching the live stream. For the record, I think everyone would simply forget to inhale just by a single glimpse of him.
"Wow..." Gwyneth's jaw dropped, eyes at Ethan, "I-I should have come to this place waaay before! You must be Dr. Ethan Ramsey...oh damn...oh damn...I can't imagine the amount of attention this day will shower upon me." She snapped her fingers for camera's attention, "My dears, I want you to live through every second of it...and don't forget tag that I attracted the sexiest man alive on this planet."
This time my jaw opened.
Did she...did she....?
HOW DARE?!
"Gwyneth?" I gave her a glare which could wither the stone, "I think we must bring out intentness back to what you are going through. I am sure there would be plenty of time to bask in heavenly bodies later after you recovered. I think the cameras must go off."
"Are you sure Dr. Turner?" she pouted, "I want my fans to enjoy every moment of what I am going through."
"I don't think you want your patients to know interim details of this treatment. Do you really want them to follow into all the distasteful momentousness? Surely, you can review them proper after we establish your pattern."
She shot me a smile before feigning a fake sigh, "Alright guys, it seems the secret must remain tuned for a bit longer. I will return back to you after the doctors find what's wrong with me. Lots of love from here."
The cameras stopped filming and the three men lumbered out of the room, taking their sweet time to drag the tripod and other fragile equipments. All while, June was examining her perfectly manicured nails and Baz was peeping out of window just in case the cameramen had developed secondary thoughts.
"Dr. Turner, since you invited Miss Monroe, what not take the lead." Ethan riled, scorching the whole world with his flaming eyes.
My skin prickled, "Yes, Dr. Ramsey. Okay, Gwyneth, can you tell us about your symptoms?"
She gesticulated "So, you know as long as you have kept up with my vlog—
"We have not." Ethan scorned.
"—I've lost 20 pounds in the last three weeks. My energy's totally tanked. I'm tired and dizzy all the time." Gwyneth said in a tart voice, "I swear that I am not dieting and it has no relation to my normal psychology...irrespective of what my pervious doctors have said."
"Have you been taking stress...a bit more than usual?"
"I don't—I think so. It's been really tough for me to come up with different ideas on the first place. And with my stomach planning to stay out of my body, its difficult to put a sweet face and smile when everything is just upside down inside." She made a face, "And if I don't post every day, Instagram and Youtube will cut out."
Capita-freaking-lism!
"So, last night you were in Virginia Beach, right?" she nodded, "What's the travel plan before that?"
She tapped her head, "Hmmm...I was in LA before Christmas—before this thing began. Then it was Sacramento, Cincinnati, Raleigh, Virginia Beach and now here."
Good grief, "Have you encountered any sick person during your travel?"
"Not that I know of. I tend to stay away from populated areas in order to shoot without any disturbance. The reason I travel is because I want to stay close to my fans in every part of this country—and the world of course."
Right, "It seems either you caught something on the travel or a pathogen which has been inside long before it showed up."
"You will make me right again, won't you?" suddenly Gwyneth's face pained, "I don't like this. Hauling my guts every hour...it hurts."
Baz gave her a sympathetic look, "We will administer a small dosage for that, Miss Monroe. It would soothe your stomach."
"Thank you." She folded her hands in front, "I know what you must think of me, a spoilt girl who took something to push up her stream but I am serious in this. I am frankly very truthful to my fans."
"We will see that you soon resume consanguity with your online zealots." Ethan invectively said, "Baz, you will stay with Miss Monroe and take a formal report. Turner, Hirata, with me."
The vlogger gave me a wave as we flew out of the room, into the hall. Ethan turned to us with the agility of a panther, "Okay. I want her cured and out of here. ASAP. Test for the basics: gastroenteritis, hyperthyroidism, viral infection..."
June frowned at his assortment, "I'd like to talk to her some more. Depression is frequently a cause of weight loss, and the girl does seem a little over-taxed."
"Sure she does. Do whatever you want but I need her out by tomorrow." Ethan ordered, "Turner walk with me."
"Aye, sir." I rolled my eyes, earning a confused look from June as we left her in the hall to envision.
Near the nurse station—which was empty, Ethan began pacing, with hands on his hips. His shoulders were tauten as if someone had just committed a serious offense and now he was debating to either incinerate that person or dump them into the least favorite section of the hospital—sanitization room.
I stayed silent, thereby increasing my chances of being incinerated by his burning anger. I knew this was going to happen—that he would realize it was me who called in for our latest patient. And regardless of the joy which glowed inside for this ritzy case, such discernment was not shared by Ethan.
He stopped, gazed at me before sighing deeply, "How did it feel, having your privacy uploaded in the stream?"
"It's none of our business, Ethan." I said, "What she does for herself is not of matter here. She's our patient and she's gonna upscale—"
"Do you know how absurd 'upscaling' our cases sounds?" his tone was hard, "Today, we got shagged in by her. This made the board happy. Now imagine what will happen next."
"I don't understand."
"Exactly!" He leaned against wall, arms folded, "You don't understand the socio-politics of a medical sector especially when it's undergoing a shaky financial phase."
"Can't we just make an...exception? Only this time...for the sake of this hospital?" I pressed my lips together, hoping for a silver lighting.
But Ethan shook his head, "Not anymore. When you start making exceptions to your principles, those exceptions become the rule. I don't want you to learn the hard way." He met my eyes, "Now, the board will search for such cases where we can bring in wealthy patients. Such cases will barrage to our group until we don't have time for others."
I gasped, "I...Oh god."
"Learn from the world around you, Charlotte." Ethan reminded, "I told you to understand your surrounding before making a decision. I know what you thought was to save our hospital, but instead it now led us become highly critical to inculcate substantial treatments while ignoring the patients like Lamar. Do you think Lamar could have afforded the cost of living like Gwyneth Monroe does?"
"Of course not." My voice went small, insignificant—ignorant.
He sighed again, "I am to teach you how this world works. Don't make this harder for me, Charlotte."
"I—I am not gonna do this again." I raised my eyes, meeting his, "I am sorry."
"Don't be." He gave me a small smile which as usual stopped the world, "I am not angry on you—at least I knew you had best intentions but before going into something like this, talk to me or June or Baz."
"I talked to June. She said it's fine as long as our hospital is saved. Baz seemed to have similar opinion as well— he wants the team to be together."
Ethan scratched his stubble, conferring a thoughtful look, "Baz...yeah, he really wants that. As for June...she and I don't exactly meet on the same plane. I don't know where her loyalties lie in the team, most probably to herself hence she thought about this first. Has she been plying into you?"
For a moment, I wanted to blabber him about what I saw yesterday. About June suspiciously leaving out of his office...but my mind thought better of it. Ethan was already stressed, god knew how many things I messed up this time which he had to clear and now I couldn't dump this thing without any supportive claims. If I needed something against June, I was to find if only she was falsetto here. Till then, she was off the records.
"Nope." I lied, "Not at least to my privy."
"Good. Stay cautious around her, I don't want her to find out about anything which could be used again me—us." There was a different undertone there which made me vent my attention.
"What do you mean by that?"
His eyes flicked over my frame where June was talking with Baz, "Just a feeling."
---------------
Baz took over the tests today while I was encharged for blood evaluation. I took the sample from Gwyneth who chatted with me non-stop, and went to give it in the labs located in the seventh floor. Sixth floor labs were being remodeled after two centrifuges simultaneously exploded, spraying the room with contaminated supernatant. While such incidents were rare in occurrence, they did happen and when they did—it was absolutely wise to steer clear of that area for a few days and let the decon and maintenance guys to handle it.
I recalled a similar scenario when I was in Atlanta. Apparently a package had arrived from an unknown location and left at the doors of CDC. My mother (thankfully) wasn't present as she was busy goading her new treatment on Zika virus in London. An intern who was working for the infectious disease department unknowingly opened the package and in presence of nearly fifty workers, a powdery substance was released. The section was shut down and everyone was put into quarantine with ventilations being closed so as outside contact. It took them three days to finally conclude that the power contained lyophilized salmonella serovars— harmless but potentially a route for posing risk of typhoid if it was not frozen.
Near way down, I remembered that tubes were needed for rounds in ER so I steered back to pluck some for myself in supply closet. On the path, some nurses near the station were whispering to themselves in anxious tones. When I gimped in their view, one of them pointed at the screen, bawling, "Dr. Turner! It's here!"
"What's here?" I frowned and followed the line their fingers had directed. It was the flat screen overhead which was broadcasting news, labeled as emergency.
"That virus in China! It's here in US!" Sarah cried out, "My parents are in Guadeloupe! Oh god! I should go and see them!"
"My husband's a campaign manager in Washington! I-I don't know what to do now!" another one joined.
Amanda slumped on the desk, "And my husband's in Laos...he's with Doctors without Borders...Oh lord."
I raised my hands, "Whoa! Whoa! Guys...guys. STOP. Take a deep breath. Right now."
They gave me uncertain glances but complied.
"Let us first see the news, then we can contemplate for a decision. Let's not take hurried actions, we are medical professional and you know what hastened decisions does, don't you?" I kept my voice smooth so that none of them would faint—or run down the streets, away from their duties.
I panned my attention towards the news channel where a female reporter was reading a recent breakout.
"First case of the new virus originated in Wuhan, China has been detected in United States. I repeat, United States has its first novel-coronovirus case. An American citizen returning from Wuhan to Washington was found positive with this virus which recorded the first case in our State. CDC had tested this person with its own coronavirus test kit but the first test was found defective with the third probe giving inconclusive results. After DNA-chip hybridization, the strain of virus was confirmed."
"Oh dear...I knew this would happen." Amanda groaned.
"I advice all citizens that there is nothing to panic. The senator has conferred in a meeting that now all the airports are being equipped for thermal screening and travel restrictions are been planned for international passengers. A single isolated case means absolutely nothing, and all citizens are advised to resume their days the way they are. Stay turned to CNN for constant updates on the case, and now we call Dr. Mike in the panel for discussion...."
I closed my eyes briefly, releasing a significant amount of carbon dioxide metabolized from the oxygen in my cell. My stomach clenched at the news but it wasn't the terror which was coursing inside me, thankfully. A single isolated case could actually mean nothing. International passengers often carried pathogens of endemic origins, no big deal here plus the person caught was already being treated...so there was nothing wrong here...right?
Relaying this inner discussion to the nurses, I informed, "Even if you still feel like calling your loved ones, do give them a call but do not panic. You know the severity of such broadcastings generates hysteria among people in different colonies. Let them know that you are safe and they are safe. Alright?"
"Thank you, Dr. Turner." Amanda gave my shoulders a gently squeeze, "For the reassurance."
I waved my hands, flushing slightly.
Great...so apart from the pestilential human beings hovering in my sphere, there was also a curious virus trying to spook everyone out of their graves. How wonderful.
Banning myself from a regale shake of head, I prodded to acquire my tubes and get my work started in the ER. Every floor of Edenbrook (duly ignore the abandoned R&D levels) has two to three supply closets to prevent people from running up and down when urgency summoned. The one I was heading was sandwiched between a locked post-op room and OT where the sign of a surgery undergoing was signaled.
I pushed the supply closet and walked inside the cool room. As usual, my eyes roved over nearly twenty shelves lined with medical equipment ranging from large cartoons of latex gloves, face masks (of various types), sanitizers, boxes of syringes and needles, catheters and extra scrubs, crutches, dressing gauzes and cotton, more scrubs, surgical suture and—ah, collection tubes. Found them. Sadly, they were located in the extreme end of the room.
And also on the top level of shelf.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed a nearby stool, and placed myself on top of it. Then, I dragged the box out and began pulling the tubes by reading their volume content. My skin broke into goosebumps as the temperature dropped drastically. I eyed the ventilation shaft—noting to inform the staff that someone had left air-circulation unchecked. Two more 10ml tubes went to my pocket and I moved for larger containers.
The LEDs on the ceiling flickered, briefly enough to be ignored for the first them. But when they flickered again, I stopped my activity to gaze. The barren top mirrored the condition of this room, despite being neck deep filled with equipment. Smell of recent sterilization emerged as the lights scintillated again, gaining a few seconds more at their intervals. I frowned. It seemed with budget cuts came some compromise to the illumination department of our hospital. Humph!
Suddenly the lights went out completely and I was thrown into impetuous darkness. I blinked, unable to locate even my hands in the closed room. The cold gnawed deeper in my skin.
"Great." I muttered to myself, "Just great. Everything has decided to expire today including my stubborn spunk."
Something clattered against the shelves and I yelped—heart lurching, almost losing my footing on the small square of space!
"What?!" I shouted, "Who's there!?!"
I grabbed my phone from the pocket and switched on flashlight before shining it in direction of that noise. Nothing was there of course but surely few syringes were rolling on the tiled floor. I fought against the rising panic.
Did Edenbrook have rats? There were few in microbiology section...could they have escaped? But that has never happened.
Then behind me, something moved.
I don't know how to explain it but...it felt like a wispy frigid gush of air which brushed against my skin and even with the full sleeved clothes, chilling sensation penetrated inside further, stroking my heart to shudder. I decided it was high time to leave this place and label it as radioactive to prevent such future mishaps from happening. The beam of flashlight was pointed downwards and I jumped down, realizing that my legs were surprisingly wobbly.
I kicked the stool to the corner just in time to hear a loud bang which echoed inside the room painfully.
Someone just shut the closet door!
"What the hell!" I shouted and rushed to door, dropping the tubes I was holding. I grabbed the handle and heaved. The doors did not open.
"Whoever you are, this isn't funny!" I banged against it, feeling the stab of terror ricocheting like the echo of door, "Open the goddamn door!"
Neither did the door opened nor came any reply.
My fists pounded loudly enough to be heard across the whole floor but as minutes passed and cold grew more severe, no sign of anyone having heard me was pronounced. Fear moved in, only to meet the warmth of my blood— my protection against the glaze. Again and again, it waved over my skin, unmanning me away. My fists throbbed with pain but it was nothing compared to the pounding of my heart, flashing me with dark memories. The grip of my fingers on phone relaxed but I didn't let it go.
I was in an elevator when darkness beckoned and now this.
At least it was moving...at least it was falling.
This room was...still...cold and at the same time, filled with a dreadful presence which I couldn't point upon. It crept on my skin...over and over...seeping down to my bones. I stared at the darkness and it stared back, unchanged. I was frozen inside.
You would be freezing if you stay here much longer. This room is now mirroring the temperature of a morgue, you idiot. Get the fuck out now!
I flashed the light backwards to the ventilation where the gush of air-conditioned wind was quailing inside, going down the mercury every second. I didn't know if this was a set up or someone just forgot that a second year resident, a fellow of DD was here and locked. The OT was nearby—couldn't anyone here me? What about the nurses?
Something reached out and plucked at my sleeves, drawling a scream from my throat. My phone clattered to the floor while I jumped back, slamming into the shelves and thereby, along momentum, falling with it. Boxes of surgical gloves rained upon me before the box itself clobbered on my head, uselessly crashing down on floor along with other stuff. I glanced at my sleeves but couldn't see anything since it was dark at my height.
Then....it felt like someone was whispering in the air.
Fear clawed at my throat now.
Against the wild screaming of my heart, my ears perked for silence.
"Charlotte.....Charlotte...."
"Who's-who's there!" my voice was raw, "This is not funny! I have been hearing things since the residency! This isn't funny!"
"Funny....no...life is not funny." Darkness whispered back.
"GREAT!!!!!!!!" I screamed, "Either Edenbrook is haunted or my mind's so fucked up that I am hearing things !"
My belief for supernatural occurrences was limited to the panel of paranormal romance pages where I wouldn't mind some devastatingly handsome ghost whirling around to protect the heroine. Such stuff never existed in our real world. Vampires, Werewolves....ghosts...they weren't real. Nothing like that was real. NOTHING WAS REAL!
And as if to prove that I was wrong, the whispering came back again, "Real....yesssss....I am real."
Unlike gorgeous heroines who swayed the ghostly heroes off their feet, I was rather close to releasing my bladder. My hands were clammy and stomach was tightened with austere butterflies. Everything was so wrong here.
"Look, buddy." I stammered, "I am just a twenty-two year old girl who is experiencing for the first time what life offers. I swear I am no poltergeist or have ever touched any cursed doll. Please. Please..."
"Charlotte...no....you are so much....more...." the voice whispered back, almost near my face. A blare of panic made me bolt away from my place. But my foot stumbled on the fallen cartoon and I landed face planted on the floor. Just beside my phone whose torch was gleaming towards the stretch of room.
And as my eyes perceived the sky-high reality, much to my horror...from the ventilation square, shimmer of mist emerged, twirling over air in a mocking gesture. It was no more than chill in the wind, a false vacuum to my existence...The mist structured into wispy tendrils...almost like the one I had seen outside Donohue the night Ethan returned. It coiled on floor in front of me, swirling and shimmering with the glare of my flashlight. I could almost feel more frantic whisperings resonating with it but my eyes were too trained on the movement...on the mystic phenomenon in front of me.
My eyes, transfixed to the shimmer almost made me forget the nothingness I was sheltered in. The mist swirled on the floor...swirled and swirled...
Then it struck me!
I screamed and scrambled back, crawling on floor over the scattered equipment until the familiar coolness of door was felt on my hands. I began banging again just as the mist recoiled back to its hold, planning for another strike. A trickle of hot liquid gushed down on my arms and I smelt the odor of blood in the air. My bones...they were sinew...my bones...they were moments away from being paralyzed.
I took a huge gulp of oxygen and screamed, "OPEN THE DOOOOR! SOMEONE!!!!!!!!"
With all my might, I banged and kicked and clawed just as mocking whispers floated around me, rasping in mortifying words...promising my ghastly end. I stood up, almost near to crying now and kept banging and banging and banging...
The door whisked opened as if someone launched it out with vehement force. I stumbled outside, clamped with sweat and kissed by the bliss of numinous surrounding. Strong arms wrapped around me, and I was pressed against someone's chest.
"Charlotte?!" Bryce's voice unmasked the shock, "What were you doing inside?"
Too frightened to even speak, I buried myself deeper into his embrace, controlling the tears which were threatening to spill. I desperately wanted to hear Bryce's voice...any voice over what was inside. I tried to regulate the ice in my veins, the hurtful breathing which was pressurizing my heart...the sinister whisper which was threatening my sanity. Too frightened to even lift my head, I grabbed a fistful of Bryce's surgical scrubs and pressed myself to him so that I could be submerged in his comfort.
"Hey—Hey..." he ran a hand on my hair, down my back, "Hey. Take a deep breath. In and out."
I tried...ended up sneezing.
He chuckled, "Not what I expected." Then gently pushed me so that he could peer down at me through his kind brown eyes, "What happened?"
"I went to get some collecting tubes." I gabbled, "The lights went out and someone locked me inside. Oh god...Bryce...Oh god...there was this noise and cold and someone whispering and the blackness and I screamed but nobody opened the door—nobody opened the door and I thought I would die, and nobody opened the door—"
"Stop. Stop." He grabbed my face, "Stop. Take a deep breath. Look at me and take a deep breath."
I focused my entire existence on Bryce, on his face which was not too square or sharp, but enough to carve a handsome contour. His sunkissed skin spoke of treks he borne under the brilliant expanse of sun...his eyes...his eyes which held the hearth I was searching.
I took a massive intake of oxygen and wheezed it out, repeating the process until my nerves jumped back to their sockets— quieted for now.
"Now tell me what happened." He softly said.
When I took in the corridor, there was starkly no presence of anyone other than us. The OT room was still sealed in which mean the surgery was still going on and then I found stains of blood on Bryce's green outfit which mean he had slogged out for a change of scrubs. Bless his heart. .
"I think someone locked me inside and cut off the lights." I alluded in a small voice, "To scare me."
"Not again..." Bryce clenched his jaw, "Why the hell this keeps happening to you, Charlotte? You of all people!"
"I don't know." I replied, "I wish I knew."
He rubbed an absent hand over my face and I almost leaned into the warmth, "Don't you think it weird that last night we found out Landry was released and accepted into Mass Kenmore and today someone locked you in a supply closet?"
I stilled.
No. I haven't had thought of that but now that Bryce's spoke...everything was replaced the temper which sparked.
"It's not possible...right? He wouldn't do anything...he's far away." My lips spoke those words delicately, "He wouldn't do it...it's gonna mess his life again. Once a lesson, always the boon. Twice the repeat and life's bane."
Bryce cast a distant gaze to the supply closet where the lights were back but flickered like the flapping of a mayfly, uncertain of the twenty-four lifetime. My phone was lying on the floor, its beam pointing towards the section where shimmering mist had completely diffused—as if it never existed in the first place. Boxes and gloves along with syringes and tubes were scattered, and one of the shelves had fallen into the wall.
"You really got spooked inside, didn't you?" Bryce sighed, "Let me get your phone."
He left me and picked it up while for a moment, my heart skidded in anticipation that the door would close upon him and I pounced myself ready to grab the handles. No such things happened of course because life was an apple which always threw me a bonus worm inside. He handed me the phone and I switched off the flashlight, trying to erase the coiling mist which struck me. Was any of it even real?
"Hey, why don't we grab a quick bite from the cafeteria. I am really hungry." Bryce gave a sheepish smile.
"I thought you are still in active operation."
He looked at the OT light, "I was until Dr. Tanaka took over me. I have been stitching humans since the morning and I really need a break."
I checked my watch. My ER rounds won't begin for the next thirty-seven minutes which meant I could surely accompany my savior to get his fill. My stomach on the other hand protested eagerly at the prospect of eating anything.
"Sure, let's go." I waved at him, "Clean yourself first."
"I'll get change in the decon showers on the way." He informed.
"Super." I chirped, "Let's get the hell outta here."
Bryce touched my shoulders, "Hey, let me check if we got someone in the camera." He motioned at the lens which was pointed in our direction and I sagged in relief. Phew. At least we could find the shithead who tried to play Cult of Chucky on me.
"Thanks...and for saving me as well." I gave him a shy smile.
It was returned through a hesitant curve of lips, "If someone starts to bother you again, tell me. I will knock some senses down to whomever it is...no matter of the position."
From his words, I knew he wasn't talking generally of the matter here. He was talking if I was bothered by my relationships around as well. I shook my head at him before thanking him again and we began walking towards the elevator. Since Bryce was with me, I could drag my ass inside the elevator without the fear of someone cutting it down. Silly fear, I know but it will be a while for me to get over it. Though I couldn't shake off the feeling...
I looked over my shoulders at the supply closet which was left gaping open.
Was any of it even real?
The voice...the touch...the whispers and the darkness which spoke like the reverting strength of ancients. Was it just my vivid imagination or I hallucinated when my frame collided with the shelves? The tendril mists which appeared for the second time...the voice...always around me...what was happening?
Was any of it even real? My mind asked but no answers were perceived.
Then I remembered that something had gazed my sleeve. When I looked at my right sleeve...nothing was there. I respired another relieved breath and then panned to the left.
The same breath stuck somewhere down my throat.
The left sleeve had a gnarring tear as if someone raked on it.
------------------------
What is Panacea planning for the hospitals in Boston? Is there more to this sinister company that we have been led to believe? Will Panacea rise again to imbalance the existence of Edenbrook? Will Charlotte fight again this time? What will Landry do here?
Thorne has been blackmailing Esme and now Charlotte, what will both the girls do to fight against someone of his position? Will Charlotte ask for help or deal with it herself?
Gwyneth has arrived and now it's upto DD to help her recover. Will they find what's wrong with her? And how will Ethan teach Charlotte the importance of using her surrounding to mitigate through this world? What will June do to make sure this case is solved?
Who locked Charlotte inside the closet? Is it Landry or someone else helping him, or somebody entirely different targeting her? Or...was it nobody and a sinister ploy which our mind cannot comprehend?
Coronavirus has finally reached our book. Will this reality play a bigger part here? Maybe...stay tuned for that.
Lastly, on a note...I know this book if contemporary romance and drama, but a sincere advise from me: With open heart, keep an open mind through the story.
P.S- Next chapter insights: Day off and return of some characters.