“What?”
The driver lowered his voice.
“Those bruises.”
Silence.
The driver had been there nine years earlier.
At the hospital.
After the wreck.
He had seen the boss’s younger sister lying beneath a white sheet before the family was allowed into the room.
He had seen faint marks around her wrists.
The official report said they were consistent with the collision.
The boss never believed that.
Neither did the driver.
The driver whispered:
“They look like hers.”
The boss’s jaw tightened.
“I know.”
Rain struck the awning.
For several seconds neither man moved.
The driver finally asked:
“What do you want me to do?”
The boss looked toward the street.
His father had taught him one rule above all others.
Never decide anything while angry.
Anger was expensive.
It made people careless.
It transformed suspicion into action before evidence could catch up.
The boss had obeyed that rule for twenty years.
Through betrayal.
Through funerals.
Through business wars.
Through the night his sister died.
Especially then.
Now he remembered those bruises.
The ones under his sister’s sleeves.
And the voicemail she had left one hour before the wreck.
Six words.
I’m sorry. I should have listened.
He had never understood what she meant.
The boss said:
“Find out which hospital.”
The driver watched him.
“After that?”
The boss stared into the rain.
“We make certain she wakes up.”
The nurse woke shortly after eight the following morning.
A heart monitor blinked beside her.
Morning light entered through half-open blinds.
Her clothes had been dried and folded over a chair.
Her bag sat on the floor.
A hospital nurse noticed her eyes open.
“Welcome back.”
The patient pushed herself upright.
Too quickly.
The room tilted.
The hospital nurse placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Slow.”
“I have work.”
“You have dehydration.”
“I can have both.”
The hospital nurse laughed.
“You people are terrible patients.”
“I’m a nurse.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“You told the paramedic approximately eleven times.”
The patient closed her eyes.
Embarrassment arrived.
“How long have I been here?”
“Overnight.”
Her eyes opened.
“What?”
“Your blood pressure was low. Your electrolytes were off. You were exhausted enough to sleep through two blood draws.”
The patient immediately looked toward her arm.
The bruises were visible.
She pulled the blanket higher.
The hospital nurse noticed.
“Someone hurt you?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
The hospital nurse did not challenge it.
Instead she said:
“If that answer changes, I can help.”
The patient looked away.
“Thank you.”
The nurse checked the monitor.
“Also, you have a visitor.”
The patient frowned.
“My supervisor?”
“No.”
“My sister?”
“No.”
The hospital nurse smiled strangely.
“The terrifying man who carried you into the emergency department like someone had personally offended him by letting you faint.”
The patient stared.
“He came here?”
“He never left.”
That made no sense.
The hospital nurse opened the door.
The boss stood in the hallway.
Same dark clothing.
No tie now.
Fresh shirt.
He looked as if he had slept even less than she had.
His driver waited several yards behind him.
The hospital nurse said:
“Five minutes.”