Chapter 182
Chapter 182:
Aurora quickly wiped the blood from his finger and hid the needle in her sleeve. She stepped back from the bed, clasping her hands as if in prayer.
The door opened.
Dr. Pym walked in. He was a short, balding man with nervous eyes and a sweat-stained collar. He wasn’t the family’s usual physician, Dr. Shaw. He was Eleanor’s hire.
He stopped when he saw her.
“Miss Vance,” he said, his voice tight. “What are you doing here? Visiting hours are over p>
“I was just… praying,” Aurora said, turning to him. Her face was a mask of innocence. “I wanted to see my cousin. I heard he was… improving p>
Dr. Pym relaxed slightly, but his eyes darted to the monitors. “Improving? Who told you that? His condition is… stable. But vegetative. There is no hope for improvement p>
“I see,” Aurora nodded. “And the cold temperature p>
“To slow the metabolic rate,” Dr. Pym lied smoothly. “Standard protocol for long-term care p>
Aurora memorized every lie. Every bead of sweat on his forehead.
“Thank you, Doctor,” she said. “You’re doing a… remarkable job p>
She walked past him. As she reached the door, she paused.
“Does he ever wake up?” she asked.
Dr. Pym froze. “No. Never. The brain damage is irreversible p>
“Pity,” Aurora said.
She left the room.
In the hallway, her innocence vanished. Her expression turned dark and predatory.
She had confirmed it. Her cousin wasn’t sleeping. He was being murdered, slowly, day by day. And Dr. Pym was holding the syringe.
𝓒𝓸𝓹𝓲𝒓𝒊𝓰𝒉𝓉 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓬𝓴 at g𝓪𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝗅𝓈.𝒄0m
She returned to her room. She didn’t sleep. She sat at her desk, sketching out a chemical structure on a notepad. She needed an antidote. A transdermal one. Something she could apply through the skin without anyone noticing, since she couldn’t tamper with the IVs.
She looked out the window at the neighbor’s house. A light was on in the study.
Elias, she thought. If you’re really watching… watch this.
The next morning, breakfast was a tense affair. Eleanor and Vivian sat at one end of the long table, picking at their grapefruit. Aurora sat opposite, eating a hearty breakfast of eggs and toast.
“I’ve been thinking,” Aurora announced, setting down her fork. “I’d like to try some alternative therapy on Julian p>
Eleanor dropped her spoon. It clattered loudly against the china. She let out a short, sharp laugh.
“Alternative therapy?” Eleanor scoffed. “Like what? Crystals? Chanting p>
“Massage,” Aurora said. “To stimulate blood flow. His muscles are atrophied. Traditional acupressure can help maintain tissue integrity p>
Vivian smirked. “Oh, look at her. Playing doctor. Did you learn that at the trailer park clinic? Or did you just rub the slumlord’s back for rent p>
Aurora ignored the insult. “I’ve studied traditional medicine,” she said calmly. “It can’t hurt p>
“I forbid it,” Eleanor said quickly. “It’s witchcraft. Voodoo. We rely on science here. Dr. Pym says p>