Page 31 of I'll Be Seeing You

I nodded, swallowing down my anxiety, as she shifted a few orange bottles aside on the shelf before grabbing the one she was looking for. “I’m always very careful with administration,” I assured her. “I double—triple check labels, ID bracelets?—”

She cut me off before I could finish speaking. “Med errors are the least of your worries, Ms. Keller. It’s nottheirlives at risk,” she grunted, her lip curling at the mention of the patients. “It’s yours.”

Not everyone was in this line of work for the right reason, not even me. Yes, I wanted to help people. But more than that, I wanted to help Robbie. And myself, I guess. I wanted to feel better about myself. I wanted to feel…

I must have been staring off into nothing again, because Nurse Adams snapped her fingers in my face before brushing past me. I rolled my eyes and followed her. My stepmother had always said rolling your eyes was rude but so was snapping your fingers. So we were even now.

My reluctant chaperon didn’t stop until we were standing outside Room 202. Robbie’s room. Nurse Adams then snatched his chart from the bin outside his door—most hospitals would have everything electronic, not Briarwood—her glare flicking from the name in front of her to the name on my new employee badge. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out we were related. But that was another thing about Briarwood; you learnednot to ask questions. If you were here, in this building, on this floor, it was because someone higher up on the food chain wanted you here. In this building, on this floor.

It was more than likely the same person who signed your paycheck. Silence wasn’t cheap, but it sure as heck was lucrative when you knew how to keep your mouth shut. Something Nurse Adams seemed more than willing to do as she shoved the chart into my chest and handed me the little paper cup of medication.

“I assume you can handle this one on your own?” She lifted a challenging brow at me.

I nodded and watched as she spun on a heel and clicked her way back down the hall. They were irritated clicks. But I wasn’t here to make friends. I was here to make sure Robbie was taken care of, as best I could in a place like this. Either way, it was better than the jail cell they were trying to toss him inside before throwing away the key.

I knocked once, using my badge to swipe into his room. He swung his legs off the bed and took two steps forward, his hands clasped behind his back as I closed the distance.

“Fancy seeing you here, Jelly Bean.” Robbie grinned, appearing way too happy for the guy who’d just been charged with murdering his pregnant wife and unborn child.

I took a deep breath and schooled my features. I loved my brother. I really did. More than was good for either of us. I just didn’t understand why he’d done what he did. I wanted to. I wanted to believe he was out of hismind. But somewhere deep inside, I knew he was just manipulative. It was much easier for him to tell the judge, his lawyer, the media that he was crazy than it was to admit he was just… evil. That he didn’t want to be a father to a babyboyany more than he wanted to be my brother.

It didn’t matter. He was family. The only family I had left and it was my job to take care of him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, forcing a smile as I extended the cup in his direction.

“Better now that you’re here,” he hummed, knocking it out of my grip and sending the medication flying across the floor. And then he was the one closing the distance. A single predatory step at a time.

“I’m at work, Robbie,” I tried to reason with him, my left hand scrambling for the knob, for my badge, as soon as my back hit the door.

“And we have a private room all to ourselves,” he hummed. “Sis.” He slapped a palm above my head, loud enough to have me flinching, the other pressing the door closed as he ground himself against me. “I have an itch that needs scratching. I’m in pain, Jelly Bean.”

I squeezed my eyes shut like I always did. Pretended like I was somewhere else as he tore at my tights, yanking them down my thighs before he was dropping his pants.

It was the last time I wore a white tunic to work instead of the blue scrubs I was issued that day. It was also the last time I went into Robbie’s room without a male orderly behind me…

Nurse Adams didn’t ask what had taken me so longor why my makeup was running down my face when I returned to the nurse’s station nearly an hour later. But like I said, she was paid to not ask questions and I’d spent decades acting as though I had nothing to report back anyway.