Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
At least the higher-ups aren’t leaning on me yet. That’ll probably start tomorrow after Jason Musgrave gets over his shock and starts demanding answers.
Chapter 5
“No, man, I’m sorry—we didn’t see the fire guys bring out anyone else.” The male paramedic squeezed my shoulder. “But we left straight after the ambulance that brought in your wife. The cops will have any new information.”
His partner nodded. “This is the first place they’ll look for you, so I’d stay here.”
“I have no plans to leave. My wife’s in surgery.” I wasn’t a man who overshared, but the words wouldn’t stay inside, didn’t even feel real. How was it possible that I’d kissed my wife good-bye on the drive and left to get cake and come back to blood and fire?
My last image of Diya before the fire was of her in pajama shorts and a navy blue hoodie she’d stolen from me; it swallowed her up, but she loved the thing. Her feet had been in flip-flops, her hair still piled on top of her head as she waved me off. She hadn’t had her shower yet, had been planning to do so while I ran the errand.
“I think I’ll wash my hair, do the full curls routine,” she’d said to me before I left. “You can take me out for a date tonight.”
“As long as you wear the green dress.” Already in the car, I’d stuck my head out the window. “You know what that dress does to me. Last time around, I married you!”
Her laughter had been wild and sweet, the kiss she blew me the kind of goofy romantic thing newlyweds did. No shadows in her eyes, none of that weight that seemed to crush her at times, no fear inside me that my wife would vanish if I turned away.
Blood—God, there’d been so much blood on her.
Something crackled on the brunette paramedic’s shoulder, the speaker coming to life to indicate an urgent call for assistance.
I stepped out of their way.
It wasn’t until I was back inside the public area of the Emergency Department that I realized why else they’d told me to stay here. I had no idea if the fire was out or if it continued to rage, but the firefighters would eventually gain control.
And the situation would shift.
Forensic officers on the scene. Vans destined for the morgue. Bodies…or body parts being carried out.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
“Sir.” A nurse walked up to me, her eyes a concerned hazel against freckled white skin, and her scrubs a deep blue. “Are you bleeding?”
“What? No.”
When she indicated my tee, I looked down to see smears of red.
Diya’s blood.
This nurse must not have been on the floor earlier.
“I came in with my wife—she was stabbed. Taken straight into surgery. They wouldn’t let me stay with her. Diya Prasad.” All her legal documentation was still in her maiden name even though she’d decided to take mine after marriage.
“Diya Advani,” she’d said, sounding it out. “I like it.”
I wasn’t sure if she’d even had the chance to begin the change-of-surname paperwork, or what that entailed. She’d mentioned something about updating her driver’s license for starters, but neither of us had been in a rush about it. We were married, were one; the rest of it was window dressing.
“Hold on a minute.” The nurse left.
She returned to find me in exactly the same spot. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have a plan in mind, my usually agile brain on the fritz.
“Your wife is no longer on this floor,” the nurse said. “Here are directions to a waiting area close to the ICU, where she’ll be brought after surgery.”
She put a piece of paper into my hand, as if aware that, right now, I didn’t have the capacity to retain too much new information. “I’ve told the ICU staff where you’ll be if they need to get hold of you. Before you go to the waiting area, though, I’d suggest changing.” She indicated my long-sleeved T-shirt. “I found a clean scrub top for you.”
I took the offered item, suddenly viscerally conscious of being covered in Diya’s blood. My skin crawled. “Wait,” I said before she could move away. “Will my sister-in-law also be brought to the ICU? Shumi Prasad. She was stabbed, too.”
The nurse’s eyes widened. “Are you next of kin?”
Another crackle in my brain, another struggle to find the right words. “Her husband…was in the fire. Her family’s based in another part of the country and I don’t know how to get in touch with them. My wife would know, but…” I fisted my hands. “I’m the only one here right now.”
“You might have to wait for the police in that case.” A sympathetic smile.
A woman walked into the ER just then, crying and doubled over in pain, and the nurse had no more time for me. She was gone before I could think up an argument that might get her to divulge Shumi’s status or location. Shoving the piece of paper she’d given me into my pocket, I made my way to the closest guest toilets.