“I want to see Alexander!”
Shirley gripped the nurse’s sleeve, voice hoarse. “Tell him I need to say something. Just one word!”
The nurse pulled her hand back, tone flat. “Mr. Williams said you need rest. He won’t see anyone.‘
“Anyone?”
Shirley laughed, tears splattering the blanket. “Even someone who nearly died right before him counts as anyone?”
She yanked out her IV, pounding the bedframe with her uninjured hand while screaming Alexander’s name until her voice gave out.
An orderly rushed in, restraining her and reinserting the needle. Cold fluid flowed into her veins, sapping her strength to struggle.
Staring at the ceiling, Shirley retrieved a fruit knife hidden beneath the mattress. The blade thin, its edge stung slight- ly against her skin.
Watching blood beads surface, she curled her lips into a ghostly smile.
She dialed the memorized number. The phone rang endlessly, nearly reaching voicemail when it unexpectedly con- nected.
“Alexander,” her voice floated weakly, “I’m bleeding… so much blood… Won’t you come see?
Maybe… this is your last chance.”
Silence hung for seconds before his icy reply: “Shirley, nobody’s stopping you from dying. But I’d rather you live. Live in agony, repaying your debts.”
“Beep… beep… beep…”
The dial tone hammered against her heart.
Shirley’s knife–holding hand dropped. Blood dripped from her fingertips, blooming dark crimson on the floor.
She stared at the stain, suddenly laughing until tears flooded her eyes.
Outside, rain had stopped. Nguyennlight pierced the window, falling across her empty lower body like a cruel joke.
Alexander pocketed his phone, pulling out an old key instead.
Inserting it into the lock, his hand hesitated.
Pushing the door open, no gardenia scent greeted him–only dust.
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