“Finish her off, Doc. Make it look like heart failure. I have a dinner reservation with Donna, and I don’t intend to be late.”
“I need ten minutes to prepare the syringe,” the doctor whispered.
Footsteps. The door clicked shut.
I was alone with my husband.
He walked to the side of the bed. I felt his hand brush a stray hair from my forehead.
“You always were difficult, Eliza,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “You should have just died on the floor. You would have saved us both the trouble.”
He chuckled darkly.
“But don’t worry. Donna is already pregnant. She’ll make a much better Mrs. Caldwell.”
He patted my cheek, sharp and stinging.
“Goodbye, Eliza.”
He turned and walked out the door, whistling a tune.
Panic, raw and primal, flooded my veins. I had ten minutes. Ten minutes before the doctor came back with a syringe full of death.
I had to move. I had to wake up.
Move, I screamed at my fingers. Move, damn you!
I focused every ounce of my will, every shred of hatred and grief, into my right hand.
Twitch.
My index finger moved. Just a fraction.
Then my eyelids fluttered. The harsh hospital light pierced my retinas, blinding and painful.
I gasped, a dry, rasping sound that tore through my throat.
The door opened.
The doctor walked in, a syringe in his hand. He froze when he saw my eyes open.
“Mrs. Caldwell?” he whispered, his face draining of color.
I tried to speak, but my voice was a croak. I forced the words out, desperate and broken.
“Don’t… kill me.”
He took a step back, the syringe trembling in his hand. “I… I have orders. George… he’ll ruin me.”
“I’ll pay you,” I rasped, tears streaming down my face. “Double. Triple whatever he gave you. Just… let me live.”
He hesitated, looking at the door, then back at me. “He wants you dead, Eliza. If he finds out—”
“He won’t,” I begged. “Say I’m in a coma. Say I’m vegetable. Just… don’t kill me. Please.”
The doctor shook his head, sweat beading on his forehead. “I can’t. George owns this hospital. He owns me. If you live, I die.”
He raised the syringe, his eyes full of pity but his hand steady.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Caldwell. It will be painless.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the needle.
Bang.
The door flew open, slamming against the wall.
“Step away from her.”
The voice was deep, commanding, and dangerously calm.
The doctor jumped, dropping the syringe. It shattered on the floor.
I opened my eyes.