Damn that man. What game was he playing? Liam got pulled from the case for a reason. Tailing Stewart would only fuel the hatred he felt for the man. He didn’t get out of his car but turned in his seat to watch the group get into their SUV. Did he see her? He didn’t seem to notice her at all. Perhaps he meant to threaten Stewart. But that would be dangerous and unnecessary. Liam obviously wasn’t thinking clearly.

She stood shivering in the rain for a moment longer and decided to head home. The debate within herself to confront Liam ended quickly; the sod probably wouldn’t hear a word she had to say.

After collecting her umbrella and forcing it closed, she hurried toward her car. On the way, she threw the umbrella into the metal bin at the shop she brought it from. The owner only grunted.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Dr. Marjorie Peters had only watched a human die once. She would never forget—it was one of the most powerful experiences a person could witness. They had tried everything in their power to stop it, the hospital staff, but as Marjorie held the tiny, lifeless form in her hands, she knew the bleeding would only claim the life of the mother as well.

Marjorie had looked into the mother’s eyes as she took her final few breaths. Although Alice would die along with her son, but it looked as if she didn’t care. She wanted to hold him, if it was the last thing she ever did. And it was the last thing. Pale and lifeless they both were, surrounded by a sea of red. So final. So unchangeable. So absolute. So scary.

And yet, soon another would die, this time, at Marjorie’s own hand. She couldn’t turn back now, could she? Her heart began to race and she could feel her face grow numb. Seventeen minutes. After she pushed the button, it only took seventeen minutes for the anger to wear off and the regret to sink in. But there was no turning back. They had asked her multiple times if she was sure, and when she was angry or scared, she was sure. But then she remembered Alice, who didn’t deserve to die. Did anyone deserve to die? Did she have the right to kill?

Her whole body had become numb now and she shook out her arms. What was she thinking?

One thing was for sure, she couldn’t think about this now. She must concentrate on work. After taking a deep breath, she turned the handle on room one.

She had to concentrate on other things—she had to remember why she pushed the button: for the children—her lost children. Children.

“What? Did you say children?”

Dr. Marjorie Peters looked up at the woman whose foot she was holding in her hand.

“Children?” Marjorie asked, finally realizing that she had said the word out loud. “Ah yes, I asked if you had any grandchildren.”

“Oh yes I do, and I have pictures, loads of pictures. They are adorable.” The patient had started into her favorite subject. It was lucky for Dr. Peters that Ms. Campbell was sitting upon her medical exam table and unable to reach her handbag, which sat on a nearby chair. “Oh dear, I cannot reach them, that’s too bad. I will have to show you after you finish up. Have I shown you the photo of Carlie’s first tooth?”

“Perhaps you have.”

“Well, one never tires of it anyway. So, what do you think of my toe?”

“Definitely an ingrown toenail,” she replied. “Perhaps your shoes are too tight, or you keep your nails trimmed too closely.”

“I did buy new shoes lately, I thought they were too tight, but I just fell in love with them and the price. I couldn’t pass it up. What do you think I should do about it? Must I give up the shoes?”

“That depends. Do you want to keep having these ingrown toenails?” After prescribing treatment, she left the room and gave instructions to the nurse, avoiding the photos.

Sitting in her office, she looked into the waiting room. It was full. From her desk drawer, she took a bottle of tablets and placed two small pills under her tongue. The clock read ten minutes to two. Only one hour and ten minutes to go. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She didn’t want to be a doctor anymore. How could she call herself a doctor when she took an oath to do no harm and here she was, planning a murder? In university, she used to live for the future. And now, she had everything she dreamed about: lots of money, large house, and nice car. But she didn’t have what she now considered most important: happiness. And it was because she couldn’t have children. Children.

She lived day to day, not caring how her life turned out. That was why she knew she had to start it. His death was the only way she could live. Waking up next to him every day and pretending that everything was all right was killing her. Her anger and hatred for him was eating her up. But soon it would be over; she had to put up with him for only a few more weeks.

Door number three contained a child of four with the symptoms loss of appetite and an itchy rash all over his body. She groaned. There was a pregnant woman in the next room—hopefully the nurse knew better and put the boy in the room straight away. When she came in, the boy was jumping up and down to see out the window, he stopped and looked at her curiously.

“My mum says you is a doctor, are you Doctor Seuss? Do you eat green eggs and ham?” The boy laughed contagiously at his joke while he reached down and scratched his stomach.

“Your name is Sam, are you Sam I am? Do you like green eggs and ham?”

He giggled some more and his mum, who sat in the corner frazzled from what was most likely lack of sleep from preventing her son from scratching, smiled at her.

“Sam I am,” Dr. Peters said, “can I look at your tummy? Because your mum said your tummy is itchy. Can I see?” She propped herself against the table. Why did she feel so light-headed? The pill didn’t normally act that fast.

Sam pulled his shirt over his face and she immediately knew what it was, turning to his mother, she told her, “I can confirm that your son has chicken pox. If your son is in pain, or has a fever, then you can give them him a mild pain reliever, such as Paracetamol. Let him drink plenty of water to avoid dehydration. Sugar-free ice-lollies will help lower his temperature as well as sooth his sore mouth if it has become infected, so you can give one or two. And use calamine lotion on the itchy spots, it will help him feel better.”

“Are you feeling all right?” Sam’s mother asked. “You look very pale.”

“Yes, I’m all right. It’s been a long day.” She smiled reassuringly.

The mother thanked her and she took her son home.

Majorie had developed endometriosis twelve years back and had to have a hysterectomy. It was that fact that irritated her the most. From the first moment she walked down the aisle with her husband, she wanted to have children. Yet, he told her to wait. Wait until she finished medical school. Wait until she started her practice. Wait until they had more money, and a house, and two cars. There was always an excuse. Now her husband shagged a younger girl. How stupid she was to wait.

She always wondered if she would have felt different if he had been faithful to her. He was no longer her rock, but a stone in her shoe. An irritation. It almost made her vomit the day she saw the lipstick. All the excuses she made to herself for what it could mean, but she knew, she didn’t have to ask, but she did anyway. He gave her one of his many excuses.

“It was your lipstick, sweetheart,” her husband lied to her. “Remember the other night when you kissed my neck, I noticed it then. I just thought it would come out when I dry cleaned it. No problem, darling, I’ll just get another shirt.”

She said nothing, but it was not her lipstick. Later, she found a receipt, for flowers and jewelry, but he always had an excuse and she always pretended to believe him. It was no use. He had by then managed to drain all the life they had together, all the love she had for him was gone. The worst part being that he neither noticed nor cared.