Betrayal - Book 3 of Guardians Saga - EDITED

CH 9.3 Charity Hospital

Dr. Dewey sat in the small, stuffy family waiting room of Charity Hospital. The walls were painted an unflattering urine yellow that was faded and peeling, with a cracked poster of a field of flowers hanging askew on one of them. A heavy smell of antiseptic filled the air, masking the underlying stench of poverty and despair. An old poster hung nearby, its bright colors long faded, imploring people to 'Cover Your Cough.'

A small group of people walked down the hospital corridor towards that waiting room. An enormous woman with thick glasses and a faded gray scrubs, her cracked ID badge proclaiming "clerk", stepped aside to make way for the two police officers in full uniform. Their heavy belts were laden with pepper spray, tasers, flashlights and guns. A petite woman wearing neatly pressed pink scrubs and her photo ID identifying her as a LPN followed behind, clutching a hospital-issued tablet.

The officers stopped in front of Dr. Dewey's office, their expressions grim, "You don't know the phone numbers of any of her other relatives?" one of the police asked Dr. Dewey.

"There aren't any. Her parents are dead and she's an only child," Dr. Dewey replied with his professor's equanimity.

"What about this boyfriend? Do you know how to contact him? What's his address?" The cop noticed his hesitation.  "Well?" she prompted.

The professor finally answered, the air tense between them. "I'm not sure. She had already broken up with him by the time I found out. Please, how is she doing? Is she going to be alright?" he ventured a question to the pink-scrubbed LPN standing nearby.

"We won't know for a while," was all she said.        

"I saw her." One cop leaned over spoke in a hushed tone, his voice strained and tense. "I saw her. I hope it's just some jealous lover's work and not a serial killer on a rampage or this could get real ugly if the press finds out.".

"May I leave now?" Dr. Dewey asked, thinking of the impatient brothers waiting back home.

"No, we have a lot more questions and paperwork," one cop said.

"We need to know how to contact you. You must fill out these forms," the ward clerk said.

"We need a medical history," the LPN said. "Does she have any drug allergies?"

They all spoke together, all of them pushing papers in his face.  Doctor Dewey didn't return until hours later. He knocked on the door of the carriage house apartment, located on the first floor. When there was no response, he tentatively tried the doorknob - it gave way beneath his fingers, and the door opened to a silence so thick that it seemed like a physical presence in the room.

Rile reclined on the couch, huge headphones covering both his tympanums. Cale sat with a leather-bound book open in his lap, slowly turning its pages. His eyes had a glazed look to them as if he wasn't quite present in the moment.

"Where's Gabe?" Dr. Dewey asked urgently.

"He's sitting on his bed, staring," Cale replied in a lifeless voice. "How is she?"

"Nobody would tell me anything once I identified myself as Alex's relative. They only asked questions."

Rile muttered uneasily, "Better you than me."

Gabe rushed into the room, his face pinched with anxiety. "Doctor, how's Alex?"

Dr. Dewey sighed, "Alex was in the operating room when I left. We'll know more once she comes out." He watched as Gabe slumped into a chair next to Cale, burying his face in his hands.

***

Hours later, everyone was in the same place when Dr. Dewey's phone jarred them. He listened to the voice on the other line with an intensity that seemed to stretch time. "Yes, I see," he said eventually, his voice shaking slightly. He asked a few more questions before hanging up, then stared at the receiver for what felt like an eternity.