“They have some kind of plan.”
I stepped closer.
“What plan?”
“I don’t know everything.”
Her fingers tightened around my sleeve.
“But Ethan doesn’t know I saw what was hidden there.”
Then she walked away.
Just like that.
I stood frozen in the hallway holding a cup of vending-machine coffee.
My wedding ring suddenly felt heavy.
“EVERYTHING’S STILL ON SCHEDULE.”
I returned to Ethan’s room wearing the same smile I had worn all afternoon.
He looked up.
“There you are.”
“I got lost finding coffee.”
“You always get lost.”
I smiled.
But now all I could hear was:
Look under his mattress.
A few minutes later, Dr. Klein entered.
“How’s our groom?”
Ethan grinned.
“Married.”
“I heard. Congratulations.”
The doctor glanced at Ethan’s monitor.
Then said:
“Everything is still on schedule.”
Ethan gave him the smallest nod.
“So tomorrow works?”
“It should.”
I watched both of them.
Tomorrow?
Ethan had no treatment scheduled.
No procedure I knew about.
Nothing.
Dr. Klein left.
I kept smiling.
Inside, I was screaming.
I WAITED FOR ETHAN TO LEAVE THE BED
Eventually, he shuffled toward the bathroom with his IV pole.
The moment the door closed—
I moved.
I crossed the room.
Lifted the mattress.
My fingers were shaking so badly I nearly dropped it.
Between the bed frame and the springs was a thin manila folder.
I pulled it out.
Water was running in the bathroom.
