Chapter 6
622words
"What happened, Lily?" The head nurse carefully dabbed disinfectant over the wound while speaking with obvious concern.
Lily Altman had joined the hospital staff earlier that year. She was only nineteen and unmarried. Now she had an injury on her face. If it scarred, it could even affect her future prospects for marriage.
Lily understood that too. Her eyes reddened the moment she saw the head nurse.
"Mrs. Grant, she's the one who threw something at me." She pointed at Rita, looking thoroughly wronged.
The head nurse's expression chilled.
"Miss, don't you have anything to say for yourself? We live in a cultured society. Hurting people without cause carries consequences."
Rita had calmed down by then. Panic flickered in her eyes at the head nurse's words. Instinctively, she looked toward Quentin, hoping he would defend her.
Catching her gaze, Quentin moved to speak for her out of habit.
"Rita didn't mean it. She has depression…"
"Not meaning it makes it acceptable to hurt someone? Having depression gives you a free pass to injure people?"
The head nurse cut him off sharply.
"Whatever the reason, the fact remains—you injured someone. You owe Lily an explanation."
Quentin froze. His rational mind knew the head nurse was right.
"I'm sorry. We can compensate her."
His attitude eased some of the head nurse's anger. Her voice softened. "Lily, what do you think?"
Lily glared at Rita, grinding out her words. "I want compensation—and an apology."
Quentin nodded. It didn't seem unreasonable.
"I'm not apologizing!" Rita's fists twisted into the blanket, her eyes dark and vicious. "Why should I apologize? I didn't do anything wrong."
Then she turned to Quentin again, pitiful and fragile. "Quentin, I don't want to apologize…"
Quentin frowned, feeling—perhaps for the first time—that she was being utterly unreasonable. "Rita, enough. Apologize."
Her eyes reddened instantly, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Quentin… you've changed. You weren't like this before."
His brows furrowed even tighter. What exactly had he been before?
When he didn't answer, Rita bit her lip, switching tactics. "Fine. I get it. If you all want me dead, then I'll die for you!"
She threw back the blanket, jumped off the bed, and ran toward the window.
Quentin's pupils contracted. He lunged forward and caught her in time.
"Rita, calm down. All right? No apology. No one will force you."
While he focused on soothing her, the head nurse let out a cold, derisive laugh.
She'd worked in the hospital for seven or eight years. She'd seen every kind of person. One glance told her Rita was putting on an act.
"Miss, choose your words carefully. When did any of us say we wanted you dead? Don't think tossing accusations around will make this go away.
"This is a hospital, not a place for your tantrums. If you continue causing trouble, don't blame us for calling the police."
For a moment, the grief on Rita's face twisted into something sharp and ugly.
Everyone else, now fully calm, began looking at her with open disdain.
Quentin missed that fleeting expression. Seeing the crowd's attitude, his face darkened.
"What's wrong with all of you? Aren't you medical workers sworn to save lives? Where's your compassion?"
The head nurse rolled her eyes.
"And her hitting someone deserves compassion? Enough nonsense—apologize. The hospital isn't a playground for your drama."
Others chimed in immediately.
"Yeah, hurry up and apologize."
"If you don't, we'll call the police."
"Unbelievable. People like this actually exist."
Unable to bear the criticism, Rita stormed up to the head nurse. "You—!"
"What's that on your ankle?" Quentin suddenly spoke, his gaze locked onto the string tied around Rita's leg.
