Chapter 3 - The Man Outside the Door
I did not move.
Neither did Raymond.
The shadow beneath the door remained for several seconds.
Then disappeared.
I waited another full minute before breathing normally.
Theodore slept across the room.
I crossed quietly to the door and opened it.
Empty hallway.
But near the staircase, the elevator indicator changed from the second floor to the first.
Someone had been there.
The next morning, Christopher was unusually friendly.
That frightened me more than his threats.
He poured coffee while I prepared Theodore’s bottle.
“You seem tired.”
“New environment.”
“Of course.”
He leaned against the counter.
“My uncle requires professional care, Nora. Emotional attachment can cloud judgment.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
Our eyes met.
I smiled politely.
Christopher smiled back.
It felt like two people holding knives behind their backs.
That afternoon, Raymond managed to whisper another name.
“Evelyn.”
“Who is Evelyn?”
His lips moved.
“Lawyer.”
I found Evelyn Price listed in an old company directory inside Raymond’s study.
I called from a prepaid phone purchased with nearly the last of my cash.
When Evelyn answered, I said only, “Mr. Winslow needs you.”
Silence.
“Who is this?”
“Someone trying to keep him alive.”
Her voice changed.
“Where are you?”
Before I could answer, a noise came from behind me.
I turned.
Christopher stood in the study doorway.
My heart stopped.
“Looking for something?” he asked.
I ended the call.
“A charger.”
“In my uncle’s desk?”
I forced a laugh.
“I got lost.”
He didn't laugh.
That evening, Dr. Wallace returned early.
This time I was ready.
My phone was recording from inside my cardigan pocket.
Wallace opened his bag.
Christopher stood near the window.
“Tomorrow?” Christopher asked quietly.
Wallace glanced toward me.
Christopher lowered his voice.
I moved closer under the excuse of checking the monitor.
“Tomorrow evening,” Wallace said.
“That’s certain?”
“As certain as medicine allows.”
My blood ran cold.
Wallace reached for the white box.
I stepped forward.
“The IV line looks irritated.”
He stopped.
“What?”
I pointed to Raymond’s arm.
For the next thirty seconds, I created every distraction I could think of.
It bought Raymond time.
But not enough.
Wallace administered another dose.
Hours later, Raymond was almost completely unresponsive again.
I sat beside him until morning.
Then Evelyn Price arrived.
She was sixty-two, silver-haired, and carried herself like a woman accustomed to rooms becoming quiet when she entered.
Christopher intercepted her downstairs.
I heard their voices.
“You weren't invited.”
“I don't require your invitation to see my client.”
“He is incapable of communication.”
“I'll determine what my client is capable of.”
She entered Raymond’s room.
Christopher followed.
Raymond appeared unconscious.
Evelyn studied him.
Then looked at me.
“You called.”
Christopher’s head snapped toward me.
I had one second to decide whether to lie.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I looked at Raymond.
Then at Christopher.
“Because Mr. Winslow’s condition changed.”
Christopher went pale.
Evelyn stepped toward the bed.
“How?”
Raymond’s eye remained closed.
I understood.
He didn't trust the room.
So I said something different.
“I think his medication needs an independent review.”
Christopher laughed.
“She has been here three days.”
Evelyn didn't smile.
“Then an independent review shouldn't frighten anyone.”
Christopher’s face hardened.
That was the first time I saw his mask crack.
And that night, he made his next move.
At 2:00 a.m., the fire alarm began screaming.
I grabbed Theodore and ran into the hallway.
There was no smoke.
No fire.
May you like
But when I returned to Raymond’s room—
his bed was empty.
