A temporary maid?
Did Mira tell the hospital that she was taking a few days off and they sent this one?
Even if that was the case, Mira should have told her first.
The new girl placed her on the bed.
"Weew you trained to carry your patients?" Elisa asked, her arms folded across her chest.
"Not really ma'am. It was just something I learned along the way"
"How old are you, Lola?"
"Twenty eight ma'am"
"And what —" Elisa recalled how interrogative she was with Mira and she didn't want to do that to this person even though her guts were telling her to. She closed her eyes and waved her hands at her.
It's been over a minute and she didn't hear the sound of her doors opening and closing so she opened her eyes. "Why are you still here?" She creased her brows. "Leave"
"I'm sorry I can't do that ma'am" the new nurse replied just when Elisa was about to close her eyes again..
She gave her a questioning look. "And why is that?"
"I'm meant to be around you 24/7"
"What are you, a personal bodyguard?"
"No ma'am, I'm your nurse"
"Then act like it. Leave"
"I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am," she replied firmly.
Elisa wasn't in the mood for this. "I'll deal with you later" she said tiredly before turning her head the other way and closing her eyes.
Elisa woke up later, and turned her head to see that the nurse still stood there, but she acted really suspicious like she was trying to hide something.
Elisa looked at the table. Her phone wasn't there. "Where is my phone?" She asked.
"I think you left it downstairs. I'll go get it" The nurse replied hastily and was about to leave when Elisa stopped her.
"Stay where you are. "
She picked up the telephone and dialed. Send me a guard or maid now" She shouted. In a few minutes, a guard knocked on the door and walked in..
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Go downstairs and search for my phone. Check the car if you must, and do that quickly" she instructed and the guard nodded before leaving in a hurry.
"Ma'am you should have just —" but Elisa raised her hand asking her to stop talking.
A few minutes later, the guard returned. "We couldn't find it ma'am. Do you want us to track the phone?"
"Give me your phone" Elisa instructed and the guard did as instructed, without questions.
Elisa dialed her number and called. Seconds later, a phone was ringing in the nurse's pockets.
"Won't you get that?" Elisa asked.
"Uh ..oh" she pulled out the phone rather reluctantly.. "AHH, ma'am. This is not my phone, it's … it's yours" she stepped forward with the phone outstretched.
Elisa looked at her suspiciously. " Why were you with my phone?"
"I…I.. I must have had it while I was lifting you up" she replied.
"I see." She nodded sarcasm all over her tone. Turning to the guard she said, "you may go now"
The nurse remained in her position, her face devoid of any reaction or emotion..
"Get out," Elisa ordered. The nurse folded her lips into a thin line, nodded and walked out.
Oh how Elisa wished she didn't obey!
But oh well.
She unlocked her phone and went through it . Nothing was out of place. It didn't look like it was even tampered with.
Maybe she was just being paranoid.
She sighed and went back to sleep again..
It was evening by the time she woke up again and Ethan was back. She had gotten used to the sound of all his vehicles
All because of this damn accident.
She also knew his walking steps and the sound of his shoes clocking against the tiles.
He was cooking upstairs. Approaching her room and….
The door went open. "Don't you knock?" She attacked him immediately.
"I see you're good. Good" and with that he was gone.
"Wow, what a jerk," she muttered to herself.
Just then, there was a small knock on the door, followed by the nurse again.
"What is it?" Elisa asked rudely.
"Your food, ma'am"
"Drop it and leave," Elisa ordered.
"Yes ma'am" she placed it down and left the room.
Elisa needed to confirm from Mira if she had told the hospital, but she was so hungry so she made a mental note to ask her later.
Meanwhile, Ethan was in the room when he received a call.
"I just got off work, what is it?" be asked, rubbing his temples.
"Sir, it's important "
"What is it?" Ethan asked again..
"Sir, it's about your wife's accident. Something about it doesn't add up"
"What is it?"
"The car, I think her brakes were tampered with, mildly, barely enough to notice. So that it looks like a mere failure. Also, I looked into the car that hit her. It was a stolen vehicle"
"Okay?"
"Just thought to tell you sir "
"Thank you" Ethan replied..
How is that possible? Ethan wondered. Why would someone want to do that to his wife?
No sugar coating here, but his wife was the sweetest soul he knew.
'Or maybe you don't really know her' a part of his subconscious whispered..
The next couple of days went on with Elisa forgetting to call Mira and eventually decided to lower her guard and give this nurse a chance.
"Ma'am, it's time for your medication" the nurse said as she walked in..
"I guess knocking doesn't apply to you?" Elisa asked as she sat in the front of the mirror, staring at her reflection.
"I'm sorry ma'am," she bowled respectfully. "Shall I go out and knock?"
"It's fine, just bring it"
The nurse stepped forward and handed it to her. "Thank you," Elisa said. "Anything else?" She asked as she saw that she still stood there.
"Nothing ma'am"
"Then leave" Elisa said, a flash of irritation hitting her.
When the nurse left, Elisa scolded herself. She didn't understand why she was being mean to her..
The next morning, Elisa overheard a call.
"Yes yes, she's not really loosening up to me, so plan B?" That was Lola whispering.
"I will do my job"
"I know what to do, you don't have to bother about that, but you gotta make it eight hundred"
Elisa tried to turn, but the bed screeched, and everywhere went silent.
"Lola?" Elisa called out .
"Yes ma'am?" She emerged from the bathroom.
"What are you doing?"
"Preparing your bath ma'am "
"Who were you on a call with?"
"Ma'am?"
"Who sent you?" Elisa asked, her face devoid of any emotions.
"I don't understand ma'am "
"Who sent you?" Elisa asked again.
"The hospital ma'am "
"Then what's that call 'bout?"
"I wasn't on a call ma'am "
"So you're saying I heard wrong?"
"Oh ma'am " she chuckled. "You must have heard me reciting my shift notes. We call the secondary physical therapy routine 'Plan B' when a patient is still stiff. I was just checking the dosage requirements on my chart—eight hundred milligrams for the evening. I sometimes talk to myself to stay focused. My apologies for the confusion."
"So explain the part you said "she's not loosening up to me, and how does it relate to plan B?"
Lola's eyes softened, taking on a look of professional concern. She sighed slightly, as if she were a long-suffering saint.
"Oh, that? Ma'am, I was talking about your muscles—specifically your shoulder and hip alignment. When I said 'she's not loosening up,' I was referring to how your body is resisting the initial treatment.
'Plan B' is just our shorthand for moving from light massage to a deeper tissue stimulation or a different medication because the first layer of treatment isn't working. Your body is so tense, it's like you're constantly on guard. I was just reporting to the head nurse that we might need to switch to the eight hundred milligram dosage because the current plan isn't making your physical tension 'loosen up' at all."
She paused, offering a small, pitying smile. "I'm sorry if it sounded like I was talking about you as a person. I only meant your physical recovery. You've been through a lot; it's natural for the body to stay rigid."
"I thought you said you were talking to yourself? Now, you were talking to a nurse?"
Lola's smile faltered for a fraction of a second—a tiny crack in the mask—before she regained her composure. She let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh, shaking her head as if she were just a clumsy, overworked employee.
"My apologies, ma'am, my brain is scattered today. I was recording a voice note for the head nurse on our internal app. We have to log every observation in real-time. I say 'talking to myself' because, well... I'm just standing there speaking into a phone with no one on the other end. It feels silly to say 'I'm dictating a medical report,' so I usually just call it talking to myself."
Elisa didn't want to let it go, but she had no more questions to throw at her. She was going to call Mira today, unfailingly.
After her bath, Lola asked "ma'am, would you like to go outside for some air? You have been inside too long"
"Sure," Elisa replied. As she wheeled her, she realized she was pushing too fast.
"Slow down, we're getting to the stairs" Elisa warned, and then noticed that there wasn't anyone around.
"Where is everyone?" She asked, but got no response.
"Slow down" Elisa shouted but Lola didn't. She kept pushing like a crazed person.
She was getting close to the stairs, and Lola gave one hard push.
"No," Elisa screamed. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop what was about to happen..
The wheelchair hit the top lip of the stairs with a jarring metal clack. For a split second, time seemed to stretch. Elisa's fingers scrambled for the armrests, her knuckles turning white, but the momentum was too great.
She felt the sickening lurch of gravity as the front wheels lost contact with the floor.
"Lola!" she gasped, but the name was swallowed by the sudden, violent rush of air.
The first impact was a dull thud against her shoulder, followed by the terrifying sound of the wheelchair tumbling behind her—a chaotic symphony of crashing metal and spinning rubber. Her world became a blur of white-tended walls and the hard, unforgiving edges of the marble steps. Pain flared in sharp, electric bursts—first her hip, then a blinding white heat at the back of her head.
Finally, she came to a rest at the base of the flight, a crumpled heap of silk and bruised skin.
Silence followed.
Elisa lay there, her vision swimming in hazy red circles. Her breath came in ragged, shallow hitches. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard it—the slow, rhythmic click-click-click of the nurse's shoes descending the stairs.
Lola stopped a few steps above her, peering down with that same "pitying" smile she'd used earlier. She wasn't rushing to help. She wasn't calling for a doctor. She simply reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and tapped a button.
"Plan B is complete," Lola whispered into the receiver, her voice as cold as the marble floor. "She's not talking anymore."