Chapter 3

"You're really leaving us, Dr. Franklin?" Nurse Miller's voice was soft, laced with genuine sorrow. She had been with me through countless late nights, countless triumphs and losses.

"Yes, Miller," I replied, my voice steady, as I packed the last of my meager personal effects into a small box. "It's time."

She wrung her hands. "I'm so sorry about Keon, Blake. He was such a sweet boy." Her eyes welled up.

I just nodded, the familiar ache in my chest momentarily sharpening. "Thank you."

"And... I heard about you and Mr. Carter," she ventured, her gaze flicking to the gossip magazines on the breakroom table, where Amir and Hailie's smiling faces screamed from every cover. "It's such a shock. He seemed so perfect, so devoted to you."

A bitter smile touched my lips. "He was very good at playing a part." I picked up the box. "I wish you all the best, Miller."

As I stepped out of the hospital, the crisp Chicago air hit me, a refreshing slap against my still-aching skin. I walked towards the curb, my mind a blank slate. I just needed to get away.

A sleek black car, Amir's usual model, pulled up silently. My stomach clenched. I hadn't expected him. I hadn't wanted to see him.

The back door opened. My eyes widened. Hailie was in the front passenger seat, her head tilted, looking tiny and innocent. Amir was behind the wheel. They were holding hands.

A wave of nausea washed over me. I wanted to turn, to run, but my feet felt rooted to the pavement. I had to get this over with.

Amir gave me a tight, unreadable smile. "Get in, Blake. We need to talk."

I slid into the back seat, the plush leather cold against my skin. The air inside the car was thick with their perfume, a cloying sweetness that made me want to gag. Hailie turned to face me, her eyes wide. "Blake! I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were leaving the hospital today. We were just... visiting." Her voice was a soft whisper, laced with fake concern.

I met her gaze, no emotion in my own. "It's fine, Hailie."

"You're quitting your job?" Amir asked, his voice clipped, not quite irritated, but definitely not concerned. "Why? Is everything alright with Keon?"

My jaw tightened. He still didn't know. He hadn't bothered to ask. "Keon is gone, Amir," I said, my voice flat. "He died."

The car went silent. A muscle twitched in Amir's jaw. Hailie gasped, a perfectly theatrical sound. "Oh, Blake! I'm so, so sorry. I... I had no idea."

"Of course, you didn't," I mumbled, more to myself than to them.

"This is terrible," Amir said, a practiced frown on his face. "I'm so sorry, darling. Why didn't you call me?"

"I tried," I said, my voice still devoid of emotion. "You were busy."

He sighed, a long-suffering sound. "Look, this is not the place. Let's go to dinner. We can... talk about everything. Keon, your job. We should mourn together."

My stomach churned. Mourn together? With Hailie, the reason Keon was gone? But I just nodded, a puppet on strings. I needed to get through this.

The restaurant was a hushed, dimly lit affair, the kind Amir loved. He monopolized the conversation, talking about Hailie's burgeoning music career, her "fragile artistic soul," her need for constant support. He ordered her favorite wine, cut her food, wiped a smudge from her lip with his thumb. He was the picture of a doting lover.

Hailie, emboldened by Amir's attention, kept glancing at me, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "It's so sweet of Amir to look after me," she cooed, her voice saccharine. "He's always so thoughtful. You're so lucky, Blake."

I just picked at my food, the taste of ashes in my mouth. I kept my face blank, my emotions locked away.

Amir excused himself at one point, taking a call from his assistant. "Just a quick business matter, darling," he said, patting Hailie's hand. "I'll be right back."

As the elevator doors slid shut, separating us from Amir, Hailie's demeanor shifted. The innocent facade dropped, replaced by a predatory glint in her eyes.

"So," she said, her voice no longer soft, but sharp, brittle. "The doctor is finally out of a job. And out of a husband. What a shame." She took a sip of her wine, her eyes narrowed. "You know, Amir said you were getting old, Blake. Said you were losing your spark. He prefers younger women, with fresh ideas, fresh perspectives."

I stared at her, my blood running cold. So this was her true face. "He said that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

She laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Oh, darling, he says a lot of things. But actions speak louder, don't they? He chose me. He chose my future over your dying past."

I pushed back my chair, a sudden surge of adrenaline coursing through me. "I need to go."

"Oh, planning on running away?" she taunted, standing up too. "Just like you ran from your dying brother's bedside?"

Her words were a punch to the gut. I turned, my hand reaching for the call button for the elevator. This was too much.

She lunged, a sudden, unexpected shove to my back. "Stay right where you are, you old hag!"

I gasped, losing my footing. My head hit something hard. The world spun, then plunged into darkness.

The last thing I heard before the blackness consumed me was Hailie's shrill scream, perfectly timed. "Amir! Help me! She attacked me!"