Page 71 of If I Were Wind
Peggy’s mouth dropped open. “But—”
Clare narrowed her gaze. “What are you up to?”
Ignoring her, I took Peggy’s arm. “Let’s go.” Dragging her, I hurried along the corridor.
“What’s the hurry?”
“The laundry. We haven’t checked the laundry in the hospital and the rubbish bins at the dispensary. Why didn’t we think about that?”
She sighed. “Days have passed. The cleaners must have emptied them.”
“It doesn’t hurt to check, and the laundry of the hospital is close to the dispensary. We’ll split,” I said, handing the basket to Peggy. “I’ll check the rubbish bins of the dispensary. You go to the laundry.”
With a quick, unconvincing nod, she headed towards the laundry. Soft lights glowed in the dispensary that, as Peggy had said, didn’t have any windows. Shelves loaded with boxes of medicines, vials, and bottles of pills took up the walls, but the room was twice the size of my bedroom and with enough space to accommodate a couple of tables and a few chairs. It was a crazy idea, but if Peggy had lost her piece of paper here, someone might have found it and thrown it into the bin.
Pieces of paper and cardboard spilled out of the rubbish bin in a corner. A good sign. No one had emptied it in a while. I closed the door behind me. My presence here would be difficult to explain.
Peggy’s handwriting was easy to recognise, elegant and with wide ‘a’s. Even her written numbers were peculiar. It shouldn’t be hard to find her note. I unfolded a few crumpled pieces of paper. There were discarded prescriptions and tissues. Nothing exciting. Footsteps padded from the corridor, sounding closer with each passing second.
Come on.
There. Peggy’s numbers, a bit faded from drops of a liquid, but rather visible, were scribbled on one of the pages she’d torn from her notebook. Grinning, I went to stand up when the handle of the door turned. Bugger it. I hid behind a cabinet and flattened myself against the wall.
“I don’t understand why you want another dose,” a woman said, striding inside. “You need to see a doctor since your symptoms persist.”
I took a peek and nearly gasped when Roy entered the room. Worry lines creased his pale face, and dark bruises circled his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept for days. The coldness in his gaze was causing a chill to drop through the room.
“I have a special permit for it, Nurse Rogers,” he gritted out in that harsh tone I knew so well.
“I understand that.” Her voice shook as she unlocked a cabinet using a key and took out a box. “But methapentin isn’t a drug that—”
“Thank you.” In his usual brusque manner, he snatched the box from the nurse’s hands. “That’s all.”
Sheesh. What had I said to Peggy? That I hadn’t seen Roy taking methapentin in a while. Because apparently he’d become more careful.
She glowered, her shoulders rolling back. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Ignoring her, he slipped the box into a pocket of his trousers and turned around. A screech came when he stopped on the threshold of the door and angled his head towards the cabinet where I was hidden. He inhaled a deep breath. Dash it.
He stretched out an arm towards the door. “I need a moment alone here.”
The nurse gasped. “That’s not possible. Only authorised people can stay—”
“Now.” The word ricocheted off the walls.
Muttering to report his rude and against the rules behaviour to the ward sister, Nurse Rogers stomped out of the room, and Roy shut the door behind her.
Bugger. My hands grew clammy.
I sucked in a shuddering breath as Roy trod towards me, head cocked to the side. “Come out, Kristin.”
I inched out of my hiding place, chin up because I wasn’t doing anything illegal, after all.
He walked over to me, brow furrowing. “What are you doing here? Hiding?”
“It’s a long story, and I’m not sure I should tell you. I do have my own secrets.” Gathering all the dignity I could muster, I brushed past him and headed for the door.
Except that he grabbed my arm and stopped me. “Not so fast. I want an answer.”