Chapter 3 - THE HOUSE WITH TOO MANY KEYS
The following morning, Sadi found a stranger standing beside Desmond's bed.
He was tall, silver-haired, and wore an expensive gray suit.
His hand rested on the wheelchair's control panel.
Desmond's face was rigid.
Sadi stopped in the doorway.
“Can I help you?”
The stranger turned.
“I'm Dr. Martin Vale. Mr. Gallagher's medical consultant.”
“Then you won't mind moving away from his chair.”
Vale raised an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
“That's his mobility equipment. Ask before touching it.”
Desmond looked toward the window, but Sadi caught the brief movement of his mouth.
Vale stepped back.
“I was checking the settings.”
“Great. I'm checking your credentials.”
She reached for her phone.
The doctor's smile disappeared.
“You're the new caregiver.”
“Licensed practical nurse. And you are?”
“I just told you.”
“People tell me lots of things.”
Desmond interrupted.
“Vale is authorized.”
Sadi lowered her phone.
“Fine. Then he can explain why he's adjusting equipment without speaking to the patient.”
Vale looked irritated.
Desmond looked entertained.
After the doctor left, Sadi checked the wheelchair's controls with Desmond's permission.
Nothing appeared damaged.
Still, something bothered her.
“Do you trust him?” she asked.
“He's treated my family for twelve years.”
“That wasn't the question.”
Desmond stared at her.
“No,” he said eventually. “Not completely.”
***
Later that day, Sadi accompanied Desmond to a rehabilitation appointment at an independent medical center.
His new physician, Dr. Elena Brooks, reviewed his medications, pressure-injury prevention plan, bowel and bladder management, and spasticity symptoms.
Sadi listened carefully.
Dr. Brooks recommended reassessing his treatment and offered several options to reduce spasms without automatically increasing sedation.
Desmond looked surprised.
“There are alternatives?”
“There are adjustments worth discussing,” she said. “But the decision is yours.”
He glanced at Sadi.
She shrugged.
“See? Nobody's confiscating your brain.”
Dr. Brooks smiled.
Afterward, Desmond remained unusually quiet.
Sadi wheeled a portable supply bag toward the car while he operated his chair independently.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“You've been glaring at the parking lot for five minutes.”
Desmond looked at her.
“She asked what I wanted.”
“That's generally how medical appointments should work.”
“My previous doctors talked to Frankie.”
Sadi stopped.
“While you were in the room?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head.
“That's ridiculous.”
Desmond looked away.
“I stopped correcting them.”
Sadi's expression softened.
“Then start again.”
***
That evening, Frankie brought Sadi an envelope.
“No return address,” he said.
Inside was a photograph of Desmond's damaged hospital transport van.
A red circle marked a component beneath the vehicle.
On the back, someone had written:
HE NEVER LEFT THE HOSPITAL ALONE.
Sadi carried it to Desmond.
He studied the image.
“Where did this come from?”
“Someone wants us to find out.”
“Or wants us chasing the wrong person.”
She nodded.
“Also possible.”
Desmond reached for his phone.
Then stopped.
“Sadi.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you frightened?”
She considered lying.
Instead, she sat opposite him.
“Yes.”
He looked pained.
“You can leave.”
“I know.”
“I'll pay the remainder of your contract.”
“That's not why I'm here.”
His expression changed.
“Why are you here?”
Sadi looked at him.
“Because somebody's trying to hurt people, and I don't like bullies.”
He laughed without humor.
“You work for one.”
She met his eyes.
“Then maybe it's time you stopped being one.”
Desmond stared at her.
Nobody in his organization would have dared say it.
Sadi stood.
“Good night.”
At the door, he spoke.
“Tomorrow, I'll show you the hospital records.”
She turned.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know who tried to kill me.”
May you like
Then, more quietly:
“And because I think you deserve to know what kind of house you're sleeping in.”
