Chapter 4

Lorenzo returned that afternoon, with Nancy slipping into the room right behind him and quietly clicking the door shut.

Pulling a chair up to my bedside, he laid the stack of papers on the nightstand, uncapped a pen, and pressed it toward me.

"Gloria, just sign," he murmured, his voice deceptively smooth. "We can get the discharge paperwork finalized today."

The only sound in the quiet room was the rhythmic tick-tick of my IV drip. I stared at the pen for a while, then reached out to take it, letting the sharp tip hover just an inch above the signature line.

Lorenzo leaned in closer while Nancy remained at the door, her eyes fixed on my hand.

"Gloria?" Lorenzo prompted, his voice tightening. "Come on. Just sign your name."

I gripped the pen and looked up to meet his gaze. "Nancy, what kind of medicine did you give me last night?"

Nancy's practiced smile faltered. "Cold medicine. From your own nightstand drawer."

My eyes narrowed. "Since when does cold medicine paralyze a person's limbs?"

Nancy marched closer to the bed, her voice rising defensively. "What are you talking about? I popped the blister pack right in front of you. Did the gas poisoning fry your brain or something?"

She stopped mid-sentence. My dead-eyed stare was boring holes straight through her, and she knew it.

The entire room plunged into a suffocating silence. Lorenzo forced a light chuckle, trying to defuse the tension.

"Alright, you just woke up, Gloria. Your mind is bound to be fuzzy. Let's just get the papers signed first," he said.

His hand clamped over mine, forcing my arm down toward the paper. I kept my grip tight until my knuckles turned white.

Nancy stepped closer, her voice dropping into a cajoling hiss. "Just sign it, Gloria. Do it, and you can go home."

Lorenzo gripped my left hand, guiding the pen closer to the paper. The metal tip was less than two inches from the dotted line.

"Nancy!" I suddenly snapped, locking eyes with her. "Did you wear gloves when you loosened the gas valve last night?"

Nancy paused, her face going ashen. Lorenzo's grip faltered, but his panic quickly morphed into raw desperation. He clamped down on my hand even harder, his thumb digging ruthlessly into my webbing as he shoved my arm downward.

"Gloria," he said, his voice dropping into a gaslighting purr. "You're just experiencing post-hypoxic hallucinations. You forgot to shut the valve off yourself, remember? You always leave it loose."

Nancy lunged forward and slipped behind me. Her weight pinned my upper body as she seized my right wrist. "Gloria, stop being so stubborn. Just make this easy on all of us for once!"

I was pinned between them on the narrow hospital bed. Lorenzo was forcing my left hand down with the pen, while Nancy wrenched my right arm upward.

The pen tip dragged against the paper. With my back slammed flat against the mattress, Nancy grabbed my right thumb, forcibly dragging it toward the ink pad.

"Just do it," Lorenzo hissed. "One little thumbprint."

The cold, slick ink bit into my thumbprint. A surge of adrenaline hit, and I thrashed backward. But their combined weight kept me immobilized.

Nancy shoved my ink-stained thumb down toward the Power of Attorney form. Right then, the door to the hospital room burst open, slamming against the wall.

A voice boomed from the doorway. "Freeze! Who called in the emergency?"

Lorenzo's hand froze in mid-air. Nancy's grip snapped open as she instinctively recoiled, releasing my wrist.

My right thumb hovered an inch above the paper. The red ink was glaring on my skin, but the document beneath it remained pristine. Not a single smudge had touched the page.

I sat up slowly, looking past them at the two uniformed officers standing in the doorway. My throat was too raw to project.

Nancy's hands slid off me as she shrank into the corner. Lorenzo staggered a half-step away from the bed, his face pale.

I raised my right hand, holding my ink-stained thumb high in the air for the officers to see.

"I did," I croaked. "I have video footage proving that these two sabotaged my apartment's gas lines to murder me."

The lead officer stepped into the room, positioning his frame in front of my bed.