“And one more thing—you need to say you’re mentally ill, that you’re going to a psychiatric facility for treatment and transfer the hospital’s directorship to me…”
I growled viciously, “Keep dreaming! Irene, go to hell and enjoy your sick fantasy there!”
"Everything I did was by the book. Why should I apologize? You went to Disneyland with Henry—was that my idea? You kissed him, touched his thigh—did I force you to do that?"
"He used the wrong dosage of anesthesia and killed my daughters and you covered for him, deleted the surgery room footage. You two filthy dogs—go to hell and atone for your sins to my children!"
Irene gasped. "You’re insane… There’s no way to reason with you."
"Go to hell!" I roared and smashed the phone to the ground, stomping on it over and over.
A loud pounding came from the door.
The next second, a group of people broke it down.
"You son of a bitch! You're the scum who ruined the doctors and got innocent patients caught up in this! You worthless bastard—go die!"
They ripped at my clothes, slapped me across the face, kicked me in the gut.
I clutched the urn in my arms with all my strength. But someone tore it away from me.