Chapter 4 Not long after, Dr. Harris, my mother's attending physician, contacted me. He had secured a surgical slot with Professor Mitchell for us. For the next half month, I went to the hospital every day after work to be with her. One afternoon, I had just stepped into the elevator when the doors were forced open again. Everett and Isabella walked in. Isabella no longer remembered me; her gaze skimmed past without stopping. Everett's step faltered for a moment, but he said nothing. As the elevator rose, Isabella looped her arm through his and coquetted, "Thank you, my darling, for arranging everything for my mother. Now we just wait for the result." "How should I thank you? I'll reluctantly give you the chance to take me out to dinner." she teased. I stared at the elevator buttons and, after a beat, heard Everett murmur, "What are you in the mood for?" Isabella replied like a child, thrilled, "Let's go to your place. I want your pasta!" The elevator stopped at my floor. I stepped out, and still there was no refusal from Everett. It was clear I couldn't go home tonight. I'd have to get a hotel room. After dinner with Mom, I booked a room at a nearby hotel, showered, and fell asleep. Groggy, I answered when Everett called. "Hello?" I mumbled. are you coming home?" His voice was steady. "I made dinner. I'm waiting. >> protested, "But aren't you with Isabella tonight...?" med about returning and having an awkward encounter without a proper ay elsewhere for the night." was too tired and annoyed to argue, and I rolled over under the covers. "No, Everett. I'm already asleep. Don't bother me." He was silent for a few seconds, then his tone softened, with a teasing edge. "Such a temper when you're woken up?" Half asleep, I was less afraid of him and clicked my tongue impatiently. Through my drowsiness, I was almost sure I heard a soft chuckle. "All right, sleep. I won't disturb you." Chapter 4 40.00% His voice faded and I fell back into a deep sleep. The next morning I had almost forgotten the call-except that I had addressed him by his full name, bold and directly. When he called again, I braced for reproach. I answered carefully, "Is something the matter, Mr. Vance?" Silence from the line gave way to his flat voice. "Nothing. I forgot to ask yesterday-what were you doing at the hospital?" I shrugged it off. "My mother was admitted. It's not serious. She'll be discharged soon." "If you need help, contact one of my direct subordinates," he said. He acknowledged the words with a short hum. I thanked him politely and didn't take the offer to heart-his duties at Fort Evergreen Base were not something I could call on lightly. The supplemental clause in our contract had trained me to keep my distance; asking for favors felt like crossing a boundary I wasn't allowed to cross. He didn't hang up right away. I asked, "Mr. Vance, was there something else?" I heard the familiar sound of fingers tapping on a desk-a habitual gesture of his when on the phone. He sounded casual. "Just wanted to know what your usual naptime is." I froze. Before I could reply, he added, "Call at that time from now on." I didn't understand him at all. Make a point of calling when I was asleep? Was this some new, high-ranking way to be irritating? Professor Mitchell was scheduled to be at the hospital on the afternoon of the 17th, but he only had a three-hour consultation window. We were last on the list. Everett had been out on inspection four days earlier and wouldn't return for a week. During that interval, every time I ran into Isabella, she was alone. On the morning of the 17th I saw her at the nurse's station, casually nibbling an apple. "My mom's test results are only partly back," she said, unhurried. "But the director told me not to worry- probably nothing serious." A nurse, busy filling out charts, smiled and suggested, "That's good. Why don't you go out and wait? We're still preparing for Professor Mitchell's consultations this afternoon." Isabella blinked, pretending not to catch the first half of the sentence, and asked, "Professor? What professor?" Chapter 4 40.00% "The top expert on brain tumors. The consultation slots are all gone." The nurse explained. "But your mother's case is different-she may not need to see the professor." Isabella bit into her apple, thinking. "Oh, I see." A thread of unease wound through me, but since her mother's condition wasn't severe and fell outside Professor Mitchell's specific expertise, I reasoned she wouldn't fight for the slot. Reality, of course, had other plans. At two in the afternoon Dr. Harris called me out of the ward and delivered the news like a blow. "The slots are gone." The words hit me like a physical blow, leaving me dizzy and my ears ringing. "It was taken by Mr. Vance's girlfriend. She cited military family priority." he added, frowning. "I told her I could handle your mother's case, but she insisted on seeing the professor, saying it would be more secure." I leaned against the wall to steady myself. "Can't you add another slot?" "It's too late-Professor Mitchell has a flight to an overseas seminar at five." I clenched my hand until my nails bit into the flesh and forced myself calm. Without hesitation I called Everett. As usual, my number couldn't reach him-his line always went to a cold busy tone. There was no time to lose. I took a taxi home, grabbed our marriage certificate, and hurried back to the hospital two hours later. Dr. Harris led me to Director Miller's office. Before I could speak, the director waved me off. "Don't bother fighting. You can't win against them." I shoved the marriage certificate across the desk, panting. "I am Everett Vance's wife. You can check whether this certificate is forged." "I'm not trying to take someone else's slot. I just want what belongs to me. Finally, the slot was returned to me. Once the surgery with Professor Mitchell was scheduled, a weight I hadn't known I'd been carrying slackened. I asked the doctors and Director Miller to keep my identity confidential-but I hadn't reckoned on Isabella's persistence. As I left the hospital that evening, she suddenly intercepted me, staring for a long moment before squinting and smiling. "Oh, I remember-you're the girl I hit that day. No wonder you have a clotting disorder-no wonder Everett Chapter 4 40.00% was so focused." "If you hadn't taken that slot, I wouldn't have had to do that," I said, lowering my eyes. "My relationship with him isn't what you think. I can explain." She had no patience for explanations. She reached for my hand. "I just want to see the marriage certificate," she said, the words threaded with threat. "Otherwise, do you believe I can make such a scene that your mother won't be able to stay here peacefully, let alone have her surgery?" I had no choice but to show it to her. Isabella smiled the whole time, nodded, and handed the certificate back before dialing Everett. The call connected quickly; she blinked, tears forming, and looked at me while she spoke. "Everett, you have a wife." A moment later his voice came over the line. "Who told you that?" "How could you treat me like this?" Isabella's voice quivered. "I want to break up." She hung up and turned to leave. I clenched my lips and took one step after her. She didn't look back. "You'd better not follow," she called over her shoulder. "Enabling your husband's affair-what a disgrace. Don't make me start something at the hospital entrance." Chapter 4 40.00%