Chapter 9 Doubt
At Weston General Hospital, the evening sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the visitor area.
Atticus Finch had just finished a session with a child and was now sitting in the lounge by the window, sipping coffee in his white coat.
He casually flipped open the patient file, preparing for the next appointment, when he caught sight of a familiar figure at the door.
"Hey, Mr. Thorne, here for a check-up too?" he raised an eyebrow and smiled, waving at Killian.
Killian stood at the door, ignoring the joke, and walked in to sit across from him.
"How's it going?"
"What, you suddenly care about me?" Atticus took a sip of coffee. "Same old, same old. Everyone's got their issues, especially kids at this age. I just took on a new case. A little girl who has just arrived, quite special. Autism, severe language impairment, strong tactile aversion, and abnormal fear responses."
He said, flipping to the temporary record page. "But her family is good. Her mom is always with her, and the guardian seems quite professional. You know, the scariest thing is parents who think their kids are fine."
Killian's eyes darkened. "What's her name?"
"The patient's name is Zoe. It's a lovely name."
"Last name Voss?"
Atticus raised an eyebrow. "Have you been checking my files?"
Killian didn't respond, just asked quietly, "What's her mom's name?"
Atticus looked at him, not answering immediately.
"That's protected information. I can't tell you," he said directly.
"I understand." Killian nodded, not pressing further.
He could sense something from Atticus's tone.
This wasn't the kind of family case Atticus usually took an interest in, but his evaluation of Lena carried a subtle hint of admiration.
Killian lowered his eyes, and a name suddenly popped into his mind.
Lena.
For some reason, when this name appeared, his heart skipped a beat.
Like a breeze stirring up a layer of dust, revealing something underneath.
He quickly collected himself and stood up.
"I have a meeting to get to. I'll see you later," he said.
In the hallway outside Atticus's office, it was peak time for appointments, with nurses bustling around and several family members waiting for their turn across from the pharmacy.
As Killian stepped out of the lounge, he saw that familiar figure at the medication consultation window.
Lena was adjusting Zoe's mask, one hand on the child's back, the other handing over the prescription.
Killian paused.
He didn't approach immediately but stood by a self-service machine about six feet away, observing.
He could feel his heart inexplicably quicken.
Lena had just finished and was about to leave with Zoe in her arms.
"Miss."
His voice was just loud enough for her to hear.
Lena turned, her gaze calm, recognizing him instantly but showing no reaction.
"Is there something you need?" she asked, her tone steady.
"Your hairpin." He handed over a silver hairpin, intricately engraved with vine patterns. "It fell at the medication window."
Lena, holding Zoe with one arm, took the hairpin with her free hand, her fingers pausing on the pattern for a moment.
"Thank you." She pinned the hairpin back into her hair, the movement practiced.
Zoe suddenly shifted, burying her face into Lena's shoulder.
Killian's gaze fell on the back of Zoe's neck.
There was a faint red mark, shaped like half a maple leaf.
"Is she running a fever? Need any help?" Killian asked, concern evident in his voice.
"Just a common cold," Lena replied, her tone dismissive.
Killian pulled out a gold-embossed business card holder from his suit pocket and handed her a card. "I know a great pediatric specialist."
Lena glanced at the card but didn't take it.
Under the gold-embossed name, there was a private number.
"No need, but thanks for the offer, Mr. Thorne."
With that, she walked past him with Zoe in her arms.
The card hung in the air for a moment before Killian slowly retracted it and put it back in its holder.
He stood there, not following her, just glanced at his wristwatch, his thumb silently rubbing the edge of the dial.
Killian knew very well that it had been years since anyone had rejected him like this.
He turned and left the registration area, dialing his assistant.
"Look into a child named Zoe."
"Zoe?" The assistant hesitated.
"Psychiatric clinic, recently frequenting Cloudbridge Hospital." Killian paused. "And then look into a woman named Lena."
"What did you say?"
Meanwhile, in a private club suite, Isabella slammed her juice glass down, her voice rising sharply.
The assistant stood beside her, head down, handing over a tablet. "Mr. Thorne was at the hospital today and ran into that woman."
"Ran into her?" Isabella slowly raised her eyes, a mocking smile on her lips. "Are you talking about a coincidence or an arrangement?"
The assistant remained silent, not daring to answer.
Isabella looked down at the candid photos.
Hallway corner, waiting area, entrance, the lighting was a bit shaky, but the two stood not too close, yet not too far.
Killian slightly bowed his head, and Lena, holding the child, was expressionless.
Her gaze paused, her tone disdainful. "She sure knows how to pick a place. Hospital, child, a sob story! She's quite good at playing the part. I knew it. Lately, He's been getting colder towards me. Turns out, someone is better at pretending than I am."
Isabella tossed the tablet onto the sofa, her fingers tapping the armrest, a cold glint in her eyes.
She didn't know Lena.
Never heard the name, nor cared to check the background.
But she knew: this type was the most dangerous.
Quiet, unobtrusive, pretending to want nothing, yet appearing where they shouldn't, catching the eye of Killian.
"Find out about that child's situation." Her voice was soft but carried an undeniable menace. "Since Killian is so interested in her... let's give them a little help."
The assistant hesitated. "What do you mean?"
Isabella chuckled, as if telling a joke. "Arrange a little accident. Hospitals are the easiest places for things to go wrong, aren't they?"
She stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, her figure tall and slender, like a beautiful yet poisonous vine.
"Lots of people, cross-infection, mental stress, slippery stairs, medication reactions... which one can't be understood as a weak constitution?"
She paused, her voice soft. "If she cares about her child, she should stay away from Killian."
The assistant swallowed, his voice tight. "What if Mr. Thorne finds out?"
"So what if he does?" Isabella's tone shifted, suddenly gentle. "I'm not asking anyone to harm her."
"I'm just... reminding her not to mess with things she shouldn't get close to." She turned, smiling at the assistant. "Remember, keep it clean, leave no traces."