In the restroom, he shoved me against the washbasin, his voice hoarse with fury. “Have you no shame, Arizona? People tell you to strip, and you obey? Where the hell is your dignity?”
I stared at the hollow-eyed stranger in the mirror, then let a cold smile curve my lips. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Didn’t you tell me to obey them?”
He stiffened.
I raised my gaze, my voice hollow. “Now, tell me where my son’s grave is.”
4
Arizona’s POV
Charlton’s expression froze, panic flickering in his eyes.
Five years ago, I had been proud as an eagle, brilliant enough to be called the prodigy of neurosurgery. How had I fallen so low?
Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around me, his voice shaking.
“Arizona, I-I’m doing this for our future. As an anesthesiologist, I can’t get promoted easily. This opportunity—if I pass it up now, we’ll lose everything. Please, just bear with me a little longer, okay?”
“Bear with it?” My throat churned. I shoved him away and lurched toward the sink, heaving violently.
My stomach revolted, and even the metallic tang of blood rose in my mouth. Nausea crawled into my bones.
Charlton’s face went ashen. He was about to grab me when a piercing scream cut through the corridor.