Victor was in a hospital room, half-kneeling beside her bed, carefully cleaning a wound on her arm.
Sorry, this shameless man just won't leave no matter how hard I try to shoo him away. Sit tight and wait a little longer, okay?
This wasn't the first time Alice had sent me something like this during the year and a half since she and Victor had supposedly broken things off.
The last time, my father had been rushed to the hospital after a stroke. I'd begged Victor, practically on my knees, to use his influence so the doctors would operate.
The surgical team was prepped and ready to go. Then Alice called, and Victor pulled every last one of them away.
By the time I saw the message and rushed to the hospital room, he had an entire team of specialists huddled around Alice, treating a scratch from a stray cat.
If that had happened any earlier in my life, I probably would have stormed in and torn the place apart.
But now, I just sighed.
I called his mother.
After a pause, Christine dismissed me with a single curt remark about being useless, then came anyway, bringing the Pemberton girl with her.
She called Victor right in front of me. Over and over. More than ten times.