Page 74 of Stalkers Anonymous

“Just having a conversation with my favorite doctor about pain management,” Winters says, his vulgarity receding behind that fake fucking mask. “Isn’t that right, Dr. Brigham?”

“I was just about to call Dr. Chen for a consultation,” I manage, surprised by how steady my voice sounds despite the overwhelming fear coursing through me.

Marco’s eyes narrow slightly—he knows me well enough to know something is wrong. “Why don’t I walk with you to find her?”

It’s not a suggestion, and I’m grateful for his intervention. As we step away from the bed, Winters calls after us, showing his true form once more. A monster.

“We’ll finish our conversation later, Dr. Brigham. Whether that’s here or somewhere more…private.”

Marco’s hand lands protectively on my shoulder as we walk toward the nurses’ station. “Where the hell is security?” he mutters. “They should have been here ten minutes ago.”

“Marco,” I say quietly when we’re far enough away, “he knows where I live. Specific details about my apartment, my life. He’s been watching me outside the hospital. He left a note on my car and then keyed ‘bitch’ into the side of it a few days later. I mean, he tried to. He spelled it wrong, but that feels really beside the point right now.” I’m babbling but can’t stop, adrenaline spiking through my body and making my fingers tingle.

Marco stops walking, his expression darkening. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I called the police, but they said there wasn’t really anything they could do. I didn’t want to make it a big deal if it wasn’t.” My voice is shakier now that we’re away from Winters. Tears well in my bottom waterline. “He just described my bedroom window. I… I’m so scared.”

“Fuck,” Marco says under his breath. He pulls out his phone, dialing security with more urgency. “Code Orange to the ER, bed four. Priority response needed immediately.”

Dr. Chen appears from another patient bay, drawn by the tension in Marco’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Lars Winters has been stalking Hailey.” Marco quickly explains everything I just told him.

Dr. Chen’s expression hardens. “Where is security?”

“Finally on their way,” Marco says, hanging up his phone. “But this has gone too far.”

Security arrives within sixty seconds—Frank and two officers I don’t recognize, all looking prepared for trouble. Marco briefs them quickly while Dr. Chen and I observe from a distance. I can feel my body shaking from the adrenaline.

“Mr. Winters,” Frank’s voice carries clearly across the department, “you need to come with us.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Winters protests, but his earlier menace has been replaced by whining. “I’m a patient seeking medical treatment.”

“You can seek treatment elsewhere,” Frank replies firmly. “You’re being discharged and banned from this facility.”

The escort process takes another twenty minutes—Winters alternating between false compliance and extreme outbursts, security struggling to remain professional while ensuring he leaves the premises. Throughout, he watches me, his expression a clear promise that this isn’t over.

When they’re finally gone, Dr. Chen turns to me with concern written across her face.

“Hailey, I want you to take the rest of the shift off,” she says gently. “You’ve been through enough tonight.”

“I’m fine,” I protest without hesitation. “I can handle my patients.”

“I know you can. But you shouldn’t have to, not after being threatened like that.” Her tone is kind but firm. “Go home, get some rest. We’ll handle things here.”

Part of me wants to argue, to prove that I’m not shaken, that I can maintain my composure regardless of what patients throw at me. But the larger part—the part that’s been holding back fear for the past half hour—desperately wants to escape this place.

“What about my patients?” I ask weakly, tears returning to my eyes. I fight them back. It’s not like me to cry.

“Lisa’s coming in early to cover,” Marco says, appearing with my jacket and purse in one hand, and the master key to the lockers in the other. “She’s already on her way.”

The speed with which they’ve arranged coverage tells me how worried they are, or how obvious my distress is despite my best efforts to hide it.

“Will you file a police report?” Dr. Chen asks. “What he described suggests he’s been watching you. Do you have anyone who can stay with you? Or anywhere else you can stay until we get this figured out?”

“Yes,” I say, too exhausted to fully answer her. “I’ll call them from home.”

“Don’t go home alone,” Marco advises. “Call someone. Stay with a friend tonight.”