The Clairvoyant

5

The day after, Zoe appeared in my office without an invitation, a surprise given the liberties I had granted her within the hospital grounds.

"I saw blood on Diana," she blurted out as soon as she entered.

A twitch in my left eye betrayed my discomfort, a reminder of yesterday's excesses and Zoe's ever-watchful eyes.

"It was a minor disagreement," I downplayed.

"But there was a lot of blood," Zoe persisted, her tone edging towards defiance.

My patience waned, yet I masked it with a reassuring smile, suggesting Zoe take a walk on the hospital lawn while I attended to urgent reports.

After Zoe left, I couldn't shake off her words and dialed Diana's number. Her voice, shaky, confirmed she was at the hospital.

"Where are you?"

"At the hospital."

"Alright, take care," I ended the call with perfunctory words of comfort.

Diana, seated on a hospital bench, fought back tears. My voice now sent shivers down her spine, a stark contrast to the man she once knew.

The memory of the previous night's violence was vivid, and she couldn't fathom what had triggered my wrath or the baseless accusations hurled at her.

Her friend, upon hearing the ordeal, had given her pepper spray, urging her to leave me, suggesting my daily interactions with psychiatric patients might have warped my mind.

Torn between the allure of a lavish lifestyle and her well-being, Diana was called for a medical check-up, her first encounter with a young, handsome orthopedic doctor not in the usual white coat.

His examination of her ribs, just below the collarbone, led to a request that left her unsettled. "I might need you to remove your top for a thorough check."