Part 2 — The Room Nobody Wanted Me to See
For a few seconds, I honestly thought I had misheard him.
I stared at Cassian.
Then I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because sometimes your brain gives you a few seconds of denial before it lets reality through.
I said, “What do you mean, he hasn’t worked here since March?”
Cassian looked toward the nurses’ station.
Nobody was looking at me anymore.
That frightened me more than his words.
I tightened my grip on the lunch bag.
“I watched him leave this morning.”
“I know.”
“He had his badge.”
“I know.”
“He told me he was on call.”
Cassian swallowed.
“He hasn’t been on call here for six months.”
The corridor seemed to tilt.
I looked at the nurse I had known for six years.
She finally met my eyes.
And the expression on her face told me Cassian wasn’t making this up.
I whispered, “Where has he been going?”
Cassian didn’t answer.
“Cassian.”
He closed his eyes for a second.
Then he said, “There’s a conference room upstairs. We need to talk somewhere private.”
“No.”
My voice surprised me.
It sounded calm.
Too calm.
“I don’t want a conference room.”
I held up the lunch bag.
“I came here to give my husband his lunch.”
Nobody said anything.
“So tell me where he is.”
Cassian’s jaw tightened.
“He isn’t here.”
“Then where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
I stared at him.
“You’re his colleague.”
“Not anymore.”
“Then what are you?”
His eyes dropped to the apple pie box sticking out of the bag.
When he looked back at me, there were tears running down his cheeks.
“I was his friend.”
Something inside my chest cracked.
Not broke.
Cracked.
Because suddenly all those nights came rushing back.
The missed birthday.
The empty chair at Thanksgiving.
The anniversary dinner I’d eaten alone after waiting three hours.
The mornings when he smelled faintly of hospital disinfectant.
The excuses.
The exhaustion.
The way he’d sit on the edge of our bed at three in the morning, shoulders shaking, and tell me it had been a rough night.
I had believed him.
God, I had believed him.
I whispered, “Why did he stop working here?”
Cassian looked around again.
Then he lowered his voice.
“He didn’t stop because he wanted to.”
I felt cold.
“What happened?”
Cassian reached into his coat pocket.
He pulled out his phone.
For a moment, he just held it.
Then he showed me a photograph.
It was Soren.
But not the Soren I knew.
He was standing beside a black car outside a building I didn’t recognize.
And beside him was a woman.
Young.
Maybe early thirties.
She had one hand resting on her stomach.
My stomach dropped.
I looked at Cassian.
“Who is she?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he swiped to another photograph.
Then another.
Soren.
The same woman.
Different places.
Different days.
Different clothes.
My hands began trembling.
“How long?”
Cassian whispered, “Almost a year.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“I tried to tell you.”
“When?”
“Twice.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Soren begged me not to.”
I stared at him.
“He told you not to tell me?”
Cassian nodded.
“Why?”
His answer came quietly.
“Because he said if you knew the truth, you’d never forgive him.”
I almost laughed again.
“Forgive him for what?”
Cassian looked directly into my eyes.
“For saving someone.”
I froze.
“What?”
He took a breath.
“That’s what he told me.”
The corridor had gone completely silent.
I could hear the vending machine humming behind me.
Cassian continued.
“Soren didn’t leave the hospital because he was having an affair.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Then who is she?”
Cassian’s face changed.
Like he had finally reached the part he had been terrified to say.
“She was his patient.”
I frowned.
“A patient?”
He nodded.
“Six months before he disappeared from the hospital, she came in with a condition that should have killed her.”
I waited.
“She needed an emergency operation.”
“And?”
Cassian looked at the lunch bag in my hand.
“She survived.”
I breathed out slowly.
“Then what’s the problem?”
He said, “She wasn’t supposed to.”
I didn’t understand.
He stepped closer.
“Soren discovered something during that operation.”
“What?”
Cassian glanced down the corridor.
Then he whispered:
“Someone had been deliberately making patients sick.”
My blood went cold.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying your husband didn’t abandon his career.”
Cassian’s voice dropped even lower.
“He was investigating someone inside this hospital.”
I looked toward the elevators.
Suddenly every person watching us seemed different.
The nurses.
The doctors.
The receptionist.
Everyone.
I whispered, “Who?”
Cassian shook his head.
“We don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
He looked at me with exhausted eyes.
“I expect you to believe that Soren disappeared because he thought someone was going to kill you and your daughter.”
The lunch bag slipped slightly in my hand.
I caught it.
“My daughter?”
Cassian nodded.
“He told me that if anything happened to him, I was supposed to keep you away from this hospital.”
I stared at him.
Then my phone vibrated.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
I pulled it from my pocket.
There was a message from Soren.
No name.
Just his number.
My heart nearly stopped.
The message contained only seven words:
Don’t trust Cassian. He knows where I am.