The Nurse Who Lied
Chapter 03 - The Nurse Who Lied
Tessa shut the connecting door behind her and locked it.
The blood on her sleeve was not fresh enough to be hers.
I backed toward Adrian’s bed.
“What happened?”
She looked at the empty syringe in her hand, then at me.
“Did he wake?”
The directness of the question frightened me more than denial would have.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because you looked at his hand when Dr. Shaw entered. Because his heart rate rose when you spoke. Because I have been waiting nine months for him to do something those men could not dismiss.”
Adrian remained still beneath the white blanket.
Tessa approached slowly.
“Mr. Blackwood,” she said, voice low, “if you can hear me, move your right index finger.”
Nothing happened.
She waited.
Then the finger moved.
Tessa closed her eyes.
Relief passed over her face so powerfully it looked almost like pain.
“He is still in there.”
I held the bed rail.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Why did you inject saline?”
“Because Dr. Shaw’s dose would have buried whatever progress he made tonight.”
I looked at the blood.
“And that?”
“A laboratory technician cut his hand when I stopped him from removing Adrian’s midnight blood sample. He was not authorized.”
“Why would anyone steal blood from an unconscious man?”
“To alter drug levels. To destroy proof. Choose a reason.”
The bedroom seemed to shrink around us.
Tessa pulled the chair closer to Adrian’s bedside.
“Can he speak?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
“What did he say?”
I thought of the letter hidden against my skin.
Do not trust Helena.
Do not call Dr. Shaw.
Trust no one had been the theme of my wedding night.
“He warned me about Julian.”
Tessa nodded, unsurprised.
“And my mother.”
That stopped her.
“What about Elise?”
“He said she was murdered.”
Tessa looked toward the locked door.
“Then we have less time than I thought.”
I grabbed her wrist.
“You knew my mother?”
“Not personally. Adrian mentioned her before the accident.”
“When?”
“I was his home-care coordinator after a surgery two years ago. He hired me permanently three weeks before his crash. He said he was investigating irregularities in Blackwood Foundation medical grants with an outside forensic accountant.”
“My mother was not a forensic accountant.”
“She was before she opened Bennett Fabrication.”
The fact hit me strangely.
My mother had studied accounting. I knew that. She used to rebuild company ledgers after everyone went home. But she rarely spoke about the years before the factory, and after she died, my father reduced her past to a set of photographs and unpaid medical bills.
Tessa continued.
“Adrian believed someone inside Blackwood Energy was moving money through charitable clinics and research partnerships. Your mother found the transfers. Then she died. Six weeks later, Adrian’s car went off the road.”
“The police said her death was a hit-and-run.”
“The police said Adrian fell asleep driving.”
Adrian’s finger moved again.
Not random.
Impatient.
I leaned over him.
“What do you need?”
His lips moved, but no sound came.
Tessa wet a small sponge and touched it to his mouth.
“Do not force speech,” she said. “Blink once for yes, twice for no.”
I looked into his eyes.
“Was Dr. Shaw involved in the crash?”
Two blinks.
No.
“Did he keep you unconscious afterward?”
One blink.
Yes.
Tessa inhaled sharply.
“Did Julian order it?”
One blink.
“Does Helena know?”
Adrian’s eyes closed.
Then opened.
One blink.
My skin went cold.
The woman who arranged the marriage, who looked at me and said I resembled my mother, knew Adrian was being chemically buried.
“Why marry me?” I whispered. “Why did you sign a directive naming me?”
Adrian’s brow tightened.
He tried to speak.
The effort sent the monitor climbing.
Tessa stopped me.
“Not now. His body has been immobile too long. Waking is not a switch.”
She checked his pupils and pulse.
“We need to preserve the appearance that nothing changed. Dr. Shaw reviews the infusion log every morning. Julian has access to the camera system. Helena receives reports.”
“There are cameras in this room?”
“Not visible ones.”
Tessa pointed toward a carved vent above the fireplace.
A small black lens hid behind the brasswork.
My wedding night had an audience.
I resisted the urge to look directly at it.
Tessa moved around the room naturally, adjusting blankets as she spoke under her breath.
“Act exhausted. Do not stay beside him too long. If the camera sees unusual activity, they will increase medication or move him to the medical wing.”
“What do we do?”
“Tonight, nothing.”
“That is not enough.”
“It is if keeping him alive is the first objective.”
I thought of my mother’s photograph in the drawer.
The winter garden.
Elise’s key.
“What is the winter garden?”
Tessa’s hands paused.
“An abandoned glasshouse on the west side of the estate. Helena closed it after Adrian’s mother died.”
“Can I get inside?”
“Not without being seen.”
“Then I’ll be seen.”
“You do not understand Julian.”
“No,” I said. “But I understand being trapped by people who rely on obedience.”
For the first time, Tessa almost smiled.
Then she reached into her pocket and placed a tiny adhesive strip in my palm.
“What is this?”
“A skin-temperature patch. Put it beneath Adrian’s shoulder. It will record when his body begins metabolizing the sedatives differently. The official monitor sends data to Dr. Shaw. This one sends only to me.”
I slipped it beneath the blanket.
Adrian’s eyes followed me.
I leaned close enough that the camera would see only a bride whispering to her unconscious husband.
“I am going to find out what happened to my mother,” I said. “But you need to stay alive long enough to tell me why you chose me.”
His fingers touched mine.
Not a grip.
A promise he was too weak to make any other way.
Tessa moved toward the connecting door.
“Where does that lead?”
“Staff corridor. It was built so nurses could enter without disturbing the family.”
“Who else has a key?”
“Dr. Shaw. Helena. Julian.”
The blood on her sleeve suddenly mattered again.
“Who was taking the sample?”
“Dr. Shaw’s assistant.”
“Where is he?”
“On his way to explain why the sample broke.”
“And if he tells the truth?”
Tessa looked at me.
“He won’t. He has a wife and two children. Julian knows where they live.”
Then she unlocked the door.
Before she left, she said, “At six, Dr. Shaw will ask whether Adrian moved again. Say no. At breakfast, Helena will ask whether you slept. Say badly. And if Julian gives you anything—food, flowers, medicine—do not touch it.”
The door closed.
I slid into the chair beside the bed and arranged my face for the camera.
For the next three hours, Adrian drifted in and out of awareness. He never spoke again, but twice his eyes opened when I hummed my mother’s melody.
At 5:42 a.m., the monitor alarm sounded.
I reached for the button Tessa had shown me.
Adrian’s heart rate spiked.
His body stiffened.
The bedroom door opened before I pressed anything.
Dr. Shaw entered already wearing gloves.
May you like
He had known the alarm would sound before it did.
And in his hand was a syringe filled with cloudy blue liquid.
