Page 82 of Bitter Lies

“That won’t be a problem. We can steer her away from the topic should it come up.” She closes the tablet and rests her hands on the cart, ready to push it out. “Another thing we’re quite good at in this ward. There are lots of subjects we avoid. Anything else?”

“No.” I approach my grandmother, lean over, and kiss her cheek. “Thank you. Call me if she needs me. I don’t care what time it is. If she needs me, I’d like to know.”

“Not a problem. I’ll make a note.” Smiling, she opens the door and wheels her cart outside. “It was lovely to meet you, Princess Isabel. Your grandmother will be in good hands with us.”

Taking a seat on the bed, I reach for my grandmother’s hand. It’s colder than it should be. She looks so fragile, and I can’t let myself dwell on it. If I do, I’ll talk myself out of leaving.

If I don’t show up, I know Dr. Grieves will finally have a reason to dismiss me from the program. He’s been pushing for it since day one. But it’s hard to dismiss the student who keeps outperforming expectations, proving she deserves to be there.

I kiss her hand and then stand. “I need to go, but I’ll be back. Aiden should be here in a few hours to check in on you. Please be nice to him. I like him… really like him. He might be the one.”

Laying her hand on the bed, I pull the covers up and tuck them in tightly around her. “I know you’re going to like him. I mean, I realize you already do. But the more you get to know him, the more you will. My biggest obstacle will be my brothers. I might need your help there. He’s not exactly someone they’ll easily accept.”

I pause, my voice quieter. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t buy his story about why he works for the Doyles. There’s more going on… there has to be. No matter, I’m falling for him. Maybe that’s in my blood. My mother definitely had a type. My father was no saint—and far too old for her.” My fingers curl into the blanket. “You’ll have to explain that to me when you wake.”

I pause, debating whether I should share this next part. It feels strange to admit, but it’s not the first time it’s happened. My grandmother has always helped me make sense of things like this.

“She visited me in a dream. It was… unsettling. It’s left me with questions I wish I could ask you. I know I can’t, so I’ll have to figure them out myself.”

Footsteps echo down the hallway just beyond her door. A growing unease coils in my gut. The fading daylight, signals that it’s time to go. I’m only dragging this out and making it harder.

“Okay. I really need to head out now. Get some rest. Follow the doctor’s orders. I’ll call you later to see how you’re doing. Love you.”

Resisting the urge to stay, I grab my purse and head for the door. I pause, the weight of the moment pressing down on me, and glance back at her one last time before dragging it open.

My gut twists, but I chalk it up to the chaos of the day. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since that blaring alarm yanked me out of bed, yet it feels like days. I wish she’d woken up before I had to leave. Maybe it’s better this way. When she does, she’ll have questions I’m not ready to answer. She’ll be heartbroken when she realizes Grandfather is gone and never coming back.

I step into the long hall and quickly move toward the exit. I need space. Time to pull myself together before I return to work. It’s ironic, really. I’m leaving one hospital as a patient, only to walk into another hours later as a doctor.

But I’ve been cleared, no long- or short-term issues. Just a little smoke inhalation, nothing that will affect how I perform my job.

As I approach the doors to leave the ward, I slam my palm against the button and slip through the gap the second it’s wide enough. On my way to the lift bay, I pull out my phone. Marty texted. He’s downstairs dealing with something and told me to wait. But that’s dumb. I don’t need an escort.

I type out a text to Lynette. She came on duty when we arrived, swapping out with Ryan. Once I hit send, I reach up to press the call button, only to bump my hand with a man’s doing the same.

“Sorry.”

He smiles, pushes the button, and stares ahead.

Something about him makes me uneasy. I can’t put my finger on why. He looks like everyone else visiting. Nothing special about him stands out. Maybe that’s the problem, or maybe I’m just tired.

I think my nerves are on edge, making me suspicious of everyone I don’t know.

When the lift arrives, he motions for me to step ahead of him, then joins me in front of the buttons. “Lobby?”

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I lift it to read Lynette’s text.

LYNETTE:

You were supposed to wait for us to come up. Marty’s pulling the car around. I’ll meet you at the lift.

“Yes, please,” I say as I lower my phone as the doors close.

He leans against the wall, staring at me with a steady gaze. After a few beats, he says, “You look familiar.”

I shrug, feigning indifference as I avoid his gaze.

“Have we met before?” he asks, and I detect a faint Russian accent.