The Wife He Buried Alive novel · Chapter 15 of 32

Chapter 15: Winston's POV

Winston's POV

The message on the hospital steps had been from my investigator.

The prepaid phone saved as H. in Juliet's contacts had been bought at a pharmacy on Alder Street.

Alder Street ran two blocks from my mother's house.

Half the city lived within two blocks of Alder Street, and I told myself that, and I put the phone away.

On Tuesday at six in the morning they took me down to pre-op.

Milo's fever had broken on Sunday night, and nobody on the fourth floor would say it out loud in case saying it undid it.

A nurse put me in a paper gown and a bed and an IV.

Linnea came in without knocking.

She stood at the foot of the bed in her hospital badge and yesterday's sweater, and she looked at me for a long moment.

"Your gown is untied," she said.

"It's a gown."

She came around and tied it at the back of my neck, quick and efficient, and her knuckles brushed my skin.

I did not move.

"They said an hour in the room, and two to wake up," she said.

"I'll be fine."

"I know you will. It's him I..."

She stopped.

"He's strong," I said. "He's yours."

"He's yours too."

It was the first time she had said it without anger in it.

I wanted to reach for her, and I did not, because the terms were still hers.

She put her palm against my cheek for a moment and took it away.

"Go and be brave," she said. "Then come back."

They wheeled me out.

The last thing I saw was the ceiling lights sliding by, and then a mask, and then nothing at all.

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