As the revelations unfolded, a torrent of emotions surged through me. Betrayal, confusion, and a burning need for answers mingled in an overwhelming tide. The hospital’s sterile corridors, once fraught with grief, now pulsed with a sinister undercurrent. Every shadow seemed to whisper secrets, and every door appeared to conceal truths that clawed at the edges of my understanding.
Determined to uncover the truth, I began to dig deeper. My first stop was the hospital’s administration office, where I demanded a meeting with Dr. Evans. The doctor’s demeanor was calm, almost too calm, as he assured me that everything was done in accordance with protocol. But his words felt rehearsed, and there was a flicker of unease in his eyes that betrayed him.
Unsatisfied and undeterred, I turned to Tanya, the nurse who had risked everything to call me. We met discreetly at a café far from the hospital. Her hands trembled as she recounted the events that transpired in the hours leading up to Ben’s death. “He was agitated, kept asking to see you,” she said. “Dr. Evans insisted on the sedative despite Ben’s protests. I think he knew something he wasn’t supposed to.”
