LOGINEdward's Point of View Janet had been absent for an entire week, and my mind wouldn't stop circling around the absence like a vulture. My office felt wrong without knowing where she was. The work on my desk felt meaningless. The patients in the ward seemed less important than understanding why she wasn't here.I pressed the intercom button on my desk, my jaw tight."Where is Janet?" I asked my assistant the moment he appeared in my doorway. "It's been seven days. Seven days without a word.""I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," my assistant said, his voice carrying that false reassurance that made my skin crawl. "She's probably taking some time off. A break. Everyone needs rest sometimes."I shook my head sharply, the movement almost aggressive."Janet doesn't take time off," I said, my voice cutting. "She's not that kind of person. She's dedicated. Committed. That's why she's excellent at what she does."The words came out harder than I intended, revealing more than I wanted to
Janet's Point of ViewI stared at Rowan, my mind scrambling to understand what he meant. He thought I was pregnant. The doctor had told him. Which meant he knew about the baby. My chest tightened so hard I thought I might stop breathing."What secret?" I asked, my voice sounding small and confused even though I understood perfectly what he was talking about.Rowan's face flushed with anger. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. I could see the muscle in his jaw working as he fought to control himself."Why are you playing dumb with me?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Why are you trying to act like you don't know what I'm talking about?""I don't—" I started, but he cut me off."Cut the crap, Janet," he said, his voice sharp as broken glass. "Enough of the bullshit. Just tell me the truth. Why didn't you keep shutting me out every fucking time?"My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. My hands were shaking. I opened my mouth to respond, to try to explain, to
Janet's Point of ViewI arrived at the medical facility the next morning with a decision already made. I would stay clear of Mr. Greene. Would play it safe. Would do my work without stepping on toes or challenging procedures that I knew were ineffective.It hurt to make that decision. But it was the smart one.I sat in my office, surrounded by patient files and medical records. My eyes moved across the pages, analyzing procedures, examining methods, and recognizing patterns that screamed inefficiency. The director's approach was outdated. His medications were too strong for certain patients. His psychological assessments were superficial at best.But I said nothing.I simply documented my observations and filed them away.That's when Edward's assistant came in. He looked nervous, his movements quick and jerky like he was uncomfortable being there."I'm concerned about the director's procedures," I said, deciding to trust him with my worries. "His methods aren't working. The patients a
Janet's Point of ViewThe patient ward was buzzing with activity when I arrived that morning. I moved between beds with practiced efficiency, my mind already working through the cases before me. There was a woman in bed three who presented with what looked like depression masked as physical illness—her body was failing because her mind had given up. I recommended a combination of antidepressants and psychological counseling. Her medication needed adjustment. Her routine needed structure."Increase the dosage here," I said to the nurse, pointing at the chart. "But watch for side effects. This patient is sensitive to medications. Start slow."I moved to the next patient. An elderly man with chronic pain that no amount of physical therapy could touch. His pain was rooted in trauma. In loss. In the death of his wife three years ago."The physical pain is a symptom," I explained to the attending doctor, my voice steady and certain. "He needs someone to help him process his grief. The pain
Rowan's Point of ViewThe door swung open.And Flora stood there, her face draining of all color the moment she saw us. Her eyes moved from my face to Janet’s. Then to the way I was leaning toward her. Then to the intimacy of the moment that had almost become a kiss.I watched the jealousy flash across her expression like lightning.“What is Janet doing here?” Flora asked, her voice sharp and accusatory. Her hands clenched at her sides. “Rowan, what the hell is going on? Janet, you need to leave. Now.”My jaw tightened. Every muscle in my body went rigid with irritation.“Janet isn’t going anywhere,” I said, my voice cutting through the room like ice. “I invited her here. And you’re welcome to say whatever you came to say. Or you can leave.”The words came out harder than I intended. But I meant every single one of them.Flora’s face flushed with anger. Her eyes filled with tears that I knew were calculated—carefully placed, designed to manipulate.“I know you’re still angry with me,”
Rowan's Point of ViewJanet had left the house again. I watched her car disappear down the street, her movements hurried, her expression focused on something I wasn't part of. The pattern had become clear over the past few days. She would leave, come back exhausted, refuse to answer my questions, and hide things from me.I couldn't take it anymore.The moment she was gone, I moved toward her room. My hands felt heavy as I pushed open her bedroom door. I wasn't proud of what I was doing—sneaking through her things like some kind of jealous fool—but the desperation had become unbearable. I needed answers.The room smelled like her. Like the lavender soap she used. Like the perfume she had worn since I first met her. It made my chest ache in a way I couldn't explain.I searched through her drawers carefully, trying not to disturb anything, trying to hide the evidence of my intrusion. But I found nothing. No letters. No photographs. No obvious secrets.Then I saw the desk.There were bott
Janet’s Point of View I was still caught off guard by what Mr. Lane had just said.What did he mean I looked just like our mother? What did he mean Perfection runs deep in our blood? My mind was spinning. My heart was racing.Then he smiled — and something about that smile felt… familiar. Like I s
Janet’s Point of ViewPeter had been begging me to visit his new studio for weeks. Ever since I helped him work on his last album—the one that dropped last month—he hadn’t stopped talking about it. His fans loved the sound, and Peter kept saying my input had made all the difference.And maybe it ha
Kyle’s Point of ViewThe look on Flora’s face when I asked the question told me everything.She was surprised—no, stunned.Good. She needed to be.She needed to understand I wasn’t playing anymore.I only wanted to protect her. To stop history from repeating itself.Because I’d seen what Rowan Thay
Janet’s Point of ViewThe basement parking lot smelled faintly of fuel and new paint. The air was cool and quiet — the kind of quiet that carried its own weight.Kyle walked a few steps ahead of me, pressing a button on his key fob.A soft beep echoed, and a sleek black Rolls-Royce Ghost came to li







