She’s a ghost

The hallway outside Eli’s room was heavy with quiet. It wasn’t peaceful and quiet; it was the kind that squeezed the air from your lungs.

Then came Rose’s voice.

At first, it was a broken whisper, a mother’s disbelief.

“Wake up, baby… come on, open your eyes…”

Then it rose... a cry that split through the stillness.

“Please, Eli, breathe for me! Please!”

Her voice cracked again and again, until it was no longer words, sounds, grief made into noise. The kind of sound that claws at the edges of sanity.

Doctor Han stood in the hallway, his hands shaking. He slowly pounded his head against the wall, once, then again, harder each time, as if he could knock the sound out of his ears. But it wouldn’t leave him. Every sob, every scream, pressed into his skull.

He whispered to himself, “Stop… please, just stop…” His voice trembled, breaking halfway through.

Then, behind him, a voice spoke, calm, smooth, and sharp all at once.

“My, my. Growing a conscience now, Doctor?”

He froze. Slowly, he turned his head and saw Lisa standing in the dim light, her arms folded, her smile small and cruel.

“Strange time to find your moral compass,” she said softly. “You should’ve thought about that before.”

Her words slithered closer, almost a whisper.

“If you’re thinking about backing out now… I’d remember the photos. You and that young woman from the hotel. The one your wife still doesn’t know about.”

Doctor Han’s stomach twisted. He turned away, his jaw tight.

Lisa took a step closer, her heels clicking against the marble. “Or maybe you’d prefer your wife to hear how much money you’ve thrown away at the tables. Or that cozy little place you visit on the east side. The one with the red curtains.”

His fists clenched. He wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

Lisa’s smile grew colder. “Good. Keep quiet. It’s better that way.”

Her voice softened, taking on a low, businesslike tone.

“Duke will be here soon. When he arrives, you’ll tell them she’s lost her mind. That she’s dangerous to herself. You’ll sign the papers to have her taken to the clinic. You’ll make sure she doesn’t leave that place ever."

He turned to her, his eyes glassy with tears. “You’re cruel,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “She’s just a mother who lost her child.”

Lisa looked at him for a long second, then smiled faintly, not out of joy, but out of something darker. “She was a queen once,” she said. “Now she’s a ghost. I’m just making it official.”

She turned to go, but stopped at the end of the hall and looked back at him one last time.

“And remember, Doctor,” she said quietly, “you’re not innocent. Don’t forget who made the poison.”

The sound of her heels faded down the hall.

The sound of Rose’s sobs still filled the corridor, softer now, frayed into small, uneven breaths.

Doctor Han sat slumped against the wall, his face buried in his hands. The photographs. The gambling. The debts. His wife’s tired eyes when she asked about another “late shift.”

All of it came rushing back, and with it, the cold realization that there was nowhere to run.

He looked at his trembling hands, the same hands that had written the prescription, the same ones that had mixed the powder into the bottle.

'Lisa promised. She said she’d keep it secret, that I would be protected... That's when this is over, things could even get better for me.'

His breathing steadied. The cries from the room grew faint, almost distant. Slowly, something changed behind his eyes, a dimness spreading, like the lights going out one by one.

'Why should I be the one to care?' he thought. 'She wanted this. She was the one who needed it done.'

A strange calm settled over him. He straightened his tie, wiped his face with the back of his sleeve.

'Maybe Lisa would even double my f*e for my loyalty. She has the means now that she's about to be the new madam of the Zhou family. She owed me that much.'

A small, dry laugh escaped his lips. “Double the pay for silence,” he whispered to himself. “Seems fair.”

He pushed himself up from the floor, standing tall, the tremor in his hands finally gone. The guilt had dulled into something else, something easier to carry.

And then, down the hallway, he heard the steady rhythm of footsteps, two sets.

He turned.

Lisa was coming back, her expression smooth and unreadable. Duke followed behind her, his face pale and drawn, his eyes hard.

Doctor Han forced a calm smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.

The man he had been, the one who’d cared, who’d hesitated, was gone.

All that remained was a doctor who knew which secrets to keep… and how much they were worth.

The door creaked open.

Rose looked up from the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped around the blanket where Eli lay. Her eyes were swollen, red, and her face streaked with tears. For a second, she didn’t register who it was, just two shapes against the dim light spilling from the hallway.

Then the shapes stepped forward, and she saw their faces.

Lisa. Duke.

Her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, there was silence. The kind of silence that stretches before something shatters.

“Rosie…” Duke started, his voice low, almost cautious.

She stared at him, her lips parting, and her eyes dilated with madness and raw hate. Her lips parted, trembling, not from weakness, but from something deeper, something feral that lived in the hollow left behind by grief. Her eyes, red and glassy, locked onto Duke’s face, and for the first time, he saw it, the break. The point of no return.