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“I think I’d find your list of wouldn’t-dos is very small.” I open the door. “And I wouldn’t do even half of the things you would do.”
Humming to himself, Luke smirks at me. “Oh, I don’t know, doc. I think your penchant for taking risks is growing.”
He’s not wrong, and still, embarrassment floods me, and I just shake my head as I leave for work.
Trouble, Clara. You are in so much trouble.
* * *
The hospital took that “slow day” to heart, apparently, and after a few hours of being slammed, I’m absolutely exhausted.
Luke texted after he got to work, saying he dropped the notes with Cameron, who’ll discuss the situation more with the police.
I’ve never thought about needing a lawyer in my life before, and I’m thrilled more than I can articulate that Luke has taken the hard work out of finding one.
I do not have time for that.
At the nurse’s station, signing off on a few prescription orders and looking over my next patient’s chart, movement catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.
This floor is quieter than downstairs—more serious cases up here—and the quick jerk of something dark down the hall just doesn’t sit right.
When I turn and look, I don’t see anything, though, so I just shrug it off.
“You’re being paranoid, Clara,” I whisper to myself.
The sound of my pen scratching across the paper fills the silence once more, and then, from my other side, someone calls my name.
“Just a moment.”
I finish my sentence and then look up. There’s no one.
Looking at the nurse, Candance, a few feet away from me, I quirk a brow.
“Did you say my name?”
She shakes her head. “No, Dr. Stewart.”
When her reply hits me, I realize that’s not what I heard. I didn’t hear someone say “Dr. Stewart.”
They said Clara.
Ice coats my veins, and I walk toward where I heard the noise.
It’s stupid, and I should just ignore it, but if someone is here, I want to be able to guide security toward them.
“Hello?” I round the corner down the hall toward beds ten through fifteen. “Is someone here?”
My hand is on my pager, thumb poised over the emergency button, and I take a few more steps down the hall.
“Hello?”
I let my voice carry down the hallway louder this time, and as I blink, the image of that movement that spooked me before hits me.
Dark coat. Red something on the sleeve.
Prickling creeps along my spine as I pass room after room. No one comes out. No one answers my call. The patients here are all sleeping or unconscious.
“Hello?” I reach the end of the line, needing to turn around and go back. “Hel?—”
