The Hospital: A completely unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist by Leslie Wolfe

Author:Leslie Wolfe [Wolfe, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2024-05-24T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FIVE

Cold air clings to the man like a shroud, bringing the freshness of mountain winter inside my room, tainted by the scent of expensive aftershave and weathered leather. I can visualize him in my mind’s eye: expensive suit, designer wool overcoat, and a leather briefcase matching the color of his Italian shoes. A few snowflakes, still clinging to the shoulders of his coat, melting quickly. I can’t picture any colors; most people like him wear dark grays, so I’m willing to go with that, since it’s all in my imagination anyway.

As for Perry Sheldon’s face, I can’t imagine anything.

“I’ll take it from here,” he says and waits, standing a few feet from my bed.

“Whatever,” I hear Jasmine replying sarcastically. “But I’m right outside this door, so don’t go doing anything to upset my patient.”

When the door closes, the attorney starts pacing around the room, probably looking for something, although I can’t be sure. This uncertainty scares me. All the cues I’m missing make me feel powerless.

After a few endless moments, I hear the chair being rolled across the floor. “This will have to do,” he mutters. Briefcase latches snap open. Something touches my leg through the covers, and I wince, wishing I could pull away, the thumping in my chest suffocating. Then I realize he must’ve set his briefcase down on the bed by my side.

“Mrs. Wellington, I was sent⁠—”

“Duncan,” I correct him coldly. “That’s my name, Emma Duncan. Are you sure you have the right cripple to harass?”

“Oh, I apologize.” He overly dramatizes the words, as if that’s going to make me feel better. “Your husband⁠—”

“Ex,” I correct him again, wondering for a moment how he can function as an attorney if he routinely gets his facts wrong. Then I realize it’s a tactic. To throw me off my game. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Again, I have to apologize.” The drama is now completely absent from his cold inflections. “Your ex-husband is quite concerned with your well-being, especially after the accident, and has asked me to speak with you.”

I bite my lip, trying to stay quiet, but anger gets the best of me. “It wasn’t an accident, and he knows that. He probably knows that quite well,” I insinuate, but he doesn’t take the bait. Of course he doesn’t.

“Ms. Duncan, once again, I’m sorry for the confusion. I can tell this is a highly sensitive matter for you and I can appreciate why.” He pauses for a moment, but I remain quiet, seething. “Your ex-husband believes, and I agree, that a conservatorship might be beneficial for you during your recovery. It’s purely about ensuring your needs are met and your affairs are in order.”

Conservatorship? I’m shocked. That’s what he wanted the whole time. To take everything from me. Oh, no. I can’t let this happen.

“Affairs in order? Isn’t that something dying people are encouraged to do?” I reply, instead of telling him what I really think about his idea, or Steve’s, or whoever the hell it was that came up with it.

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