AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With the broach carefully tucked away in her pocket, Morgan strode back into the hospital. She wanted to know more about this Johnny.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sarah's eyes traced the cracks in the ceiling, her mind racing as she recounted the events from last night. Her wrinkled hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white with tension.
"Please, Beth," she said, her voice trembling, "I know it sounds crazy, but there's a man who's been coming into my room at night."
Beth smirked, adjusting her nurse's cap as she glanced over Sarah's chart. "Mrs. Callahan, you've got quite the imagination for someone your age."
"Imagination?" Sarah's brow furrowed in frustration. "This isn't some dream, child. I've lived long enough to know when something is real." She had been dealing with this for weeks now, and with every passing day, the certainty that the intruder was real grew stronger.
"Alright," Beth sighed, rolling her eyes, "tell me what happened."
"Last night, around midnight, I heard footsteps outside my door," Sarah began, her voice wavering slightly. "When the door opened, I saw him – a tall man, dressed in dark clothing, his face hidden by shadows. He just... stood there, watching me."
"Sounds like a classic nightmare to me," Beth replied dismissively, scribbling something onto her notepad. "Maybe it's just your subconscious trying to make sense of living in a new place."
"New?" Sarah scoffed. "I've been in this hellhole for three years. I know the difference between dreams and reality."
"Okay, Mrs. Callahan," Beth placated her with a false smile. "Let's say, hypothetically, this man is real. What do you think he wants?"
"Isn't that your job? To protect us?" Sarah snapped, her heart pounding in her chest. "You're supposed to help people, not mock their fears."
"Mrs. Callahan, if you're so certain this is happening, why don't you just call for help when it happens?" Beth said, a touch of mockery in her voice.
"Because I can't!" Sarah clenched her fists, frustration welling up within her. "I'm too scared to move when he's there, and by the time I work up the courage, he's gone."
"Ah, right," Beth responded with a sigh. "The mysterious disappearing man. Well, I'll be sure to keep an eye out for him."
Sarah's jaw tightened as she fought back tears. She didn't expect understanding from someone like Beth, but the blatant disregard for her concerns cut deep. Over the years, Sarah had learned to adapt to the retirement home's limitations, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she deserved better than this place.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Callahan?" Beth asked, clearly eager to leave.
"Leave me alone," Sarah muttered, defeated. Her heart ached with the knowledge that she had no other options – she couldn't afford another living situation, and her family was too distant to care.
"Of course," Beth replied, her tone dripping with insincerity. Without another word, she turned on her heel and left Sarah's room, the door clicking shut behind her.
Alone once more, the faint sounds of laughter and conversation from the hall outside did little to alleviate Sarah's mounting dread. She stared at the window, comforted by the sunlight, but she knew darkness would soon come.
She thought of her grandchildren, her late husband, and the life she had led before being relegated to this dismissive environment. Despite her age, Sarah wasn't one to scare easily. But the prospect of facing the intruder alone – without anyone believing her – left her feeling more vulnerable than she had ever felt before.
As Sarah lay in bed, the loneliness of the room enveloping her, she resolved to find a way to prove the man's existence. She couldn't allow the staff to continue dismissing her fears as mere fantasies. But she was an old woman now, what else could she do?
She would just have to wait, see, and hope that maybe it was all a dream…
Even when everything inside her told her it wasn’t.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Morgan slipped back into the morgue, her heart pounding in her chest. The room felt eerily empty, as if something had shifted in the short time she'd stepped away. Her gaze swept over the stainless steel tables and the dark corners, searching for any sign of life. She clenched her fists, feeling the cold metal of the antique broach digging into her palm.
"Hey, Morgan!" Derik's voice echoed through the room, making her jump. He approached her, his brow furrowed with concern. "Frank was called into work suddenly. What's going on?"
"Did you see Johnny?" Morgan cut him off, her voice tense. Memories of her time in prison flooded her mind – the suspicion, the betrayal, the relentless fight for survival. She refused to let another criminal slip through her fingers.
"Johnny? He's just the assistant," Derik replied, confusion clouding his expression. He couldn't understand why Morgan would be concerned about someone so seemingly insignificant.
"Look at this." Morgan unfolded her fingers, revealing the antique broach she had found earlier. "I saw Johnny throwing things away, acting all sketchy. We're looking for a man who targets elderly women – and I think this might be a clue."
