In the hospital corridor, nurses whispered among themselves, their voices carrying through
the sterile air.
“Did you hear about Detective Martin’s ex–wife? The one they found in the abandoned building?”
“I heard she was killed by some man she was having an affair with. Can you imagine?”
“Detective Martin must be devastated. Thank goodness he has Emma to comfort him.”
“Such a sweet woman, still getting her kidney treatments despite all this drama.”
Emma sat in her hospital bed, basking in the sympathy. Her smile grew brighter with each concerned glance, each pitying word.
She adjusted her IV line with practiced care, playing the perfect patient.
She was reveling in her victory, celebrating my death while pretending to mourn it.
Then several police officers suddenly appeared in the corridor, their footsteps echoing as they walked toward Emma’s room. Her perfect smile froze on her face.
The head nurse tried to stop them. “This is a patient care area-”
“Step aside,” one officer ordered, showing his badge. “We have a warrant.‘
“There must be some mistake,” Emma protested, her voice rising with practiced panic. “I’m a patient waiting for a kidney transplant! Mark! Mark, tell them!”
Sarah stood by the door, her arms crossed. A cold laugh escaped her lips. “A fake transplant won’t save you now, Emma. We have proof of everything.”
Just as Emma was basking in everyone’s sympathy, playing the grieving friend, her mask was finally ripped away.
Emma’s breath came in sharp gasps, her perfectly maintained composure cracking. Her eyes darted wildly around the room.
“What proof? You have nothing! Mark, help me! They’ve gone crazy!” Her manicured hands clutched at the hospital sheets.
