“When this exhibition is over, I’ll take you to Alaska to see the Northern Lights, just the two of us.”
I gave a soft “mm” and pulled away from his arms.
He looked startled, but I waved him off.
“Go handle your business first.”
Inside, I laughed bitterly.
He was shameless beyond belief.
Then Ethan gestured toward the door, and a middle-aged woman came in.
“Your eyesight isn’t good right now, so I arranged for a caregiver, Mrs. Thompson, to take care of you. Call her if you need anything.”
I looked up and saw a broad-shouldered woman. I didn’t think too much of it.
Ethan had always been meticulous.
But deep down, I knew — the caregiver was here to monitor me, not to take care of me.
As Ethan left, I heard his low voice clearly.
“If she does anything unusual, call me immediately. Grant all her requests except discharge.”
“Oh, and slip her the sleeping pills later. Once she’s out cold, take that container away.”
Container? Mom?
He wasn’t supposed to have a mom — he told me he was an orphan.
A chill ran down my back.
My fists clenched tight.
I needed to run.
Mrs. Thompson entered again, bringing me a bowl of soup and a small capful of medicine.
“The doctor prescribed this for you. Take it.”