Page 81 of Inked in Devotion

She nodded and thanked the nurse, who shot me a friendly smile.

“Mr. King. Yes, I have her.” She paused, studied me briefly, before handing me the phone.

I slowed my pace on the stairs. “Theo.”

“Chloe, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“What happened? I noticed a call from Kolya. What did that bastard do?”

“It was me.” Then my eyes grew hot and I couldn’t speak articulately through the tears. “It was me.”

“I’m coming right over, all right?”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Chloe, listen to me. Hang in there. Stay right there. I’m coming.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Chloe?” he prodded.

“Yes, I’ll wait.”

“Good girl.”

I imagined Theo’s sigh of relief. I hated, hated being so much trouble. But these past few days felt like my head was underwater and a boulder was weighing me down, and I didn’t understand why.

“Please hand the phone back to Nurse Nolan.”

She led me into an office with the phone to her ear before walking out. The closing of the door unnerved me. I went to it and tested the knob. She didn’t lock me in. I exhaled a breath that didn’t quite empty my lungs because anxiety kept my insides pressurized.

I studied the surroundings. Framed photographs of the staff hung on the wall. Black and white. Vintage photographs showing that this had been an institution for decades.

Twenty minutes had passed, and I got restless. I tentatively opened the door and peeked out. The halls were empty. It was also quiet. It must be curfew. I didn’t know what time it was, probably ten p.m.

Theo told me Jeremiah was on the first floor when one of his assistants interrupted our meeting with an urgent message about room 1012. I remembered that day, a week after the arbitration.

Theo stared at me. “Wait here.”

He made a private call and returned shortly. “That’s the hospital.” A beat of silence full of hesitation. “Jeremiah just woke up.”

My thoughts were riddled with questions, but Theo must have seen it on my face. “I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“When can I see him?”

“He’s on the first floor of The Astorian. The doctor wants to see me.”

I was at the end of the corridor. A foyer and reception cubicle split the two ends of the building. Black and white tiles painted a gothic asylum vibe. The wing Nurse Nolan put me in was full of offices.

I exited the room and stood facing the opposite hallway; it curved into another wing.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Did you kill my mother, Jeremiah?