Mrs. Hunt for 30 days のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 131 - チャプター 140

Jason The handcuffs dug into my wrists like icy teeth as the officers yanked me away from Danika’s wall. My shoulder scraped against the rough stucco, but the pain barely registered. All I could focus on were the windows above me, dark and silent.“Mitchelle!” I shouted one last time. “Chelley, please!”They shoved me into the back of the patrol car. The door slammed shut with a finality that made my stomach drop. Red and blue lights pulsed across the quiet street as we pulled away. I twisted in the seat, straining to look back, but the house disappeared behind us. My head throbbed worse than before. The fog in my mind thickened, wrapping around every thought until only her name remained.At the station, they fingerprinted me like I was some street thug. The bright fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as they listed the charges: criminal trespass, attempted breaking and entering, disturbing the peace. I sat on the cold metal bench in the holding cell, putting my elbows on my knees, sta

ChloeThe nurse Diana had hired walked into the sitting room looking defeated, her shoulders slumped and her face pale. Diana and I sat on the plush sofa, glasses of wine in hand, expecting good news about Dorian's death.Instead, the nurse wrung her hands nervously."Ma'am, I'm sorry," she began quietly. "It wasn't successful."Diana's wine glass paused halfway to her lips."What do you mean it wasn't successful?" she demanded, as her voice became sharp and dangerous.The nurse shifted her weight from foot to foot."The hospital has a strong policy against anyone accessing patients in intensive care units," she explained quickly. "They monitor every single staff member that touches them. Every medication administered, every cleaner who enters the room, everything is logged and recorded. There are cameras everywhere and security checks at every shift change.""What the hell do you mean by that, you foolish nurse!" Diana shouted, slamming her wine glass down so hard I was surprised it

ChloeI parked in the hospital lot and checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. Conservative black dress, minimal makeup, red-rimmed eyes from the drops I'd applied earlier to look like I'd been crying. Perfect grieving family member.The vial and syringe sat heavy in my purse as I walked through the automatic doors. My heart pounded but not from fear. From anticipation.Two security guards stood outside the ICU ward entrance. The larger one held up his hand as I approached."Visiting hours, ma'am," he stated. "Who are you here to see?""Dorian Roth," I replied, keeping my voice soft and sad."Name and ID please," the other guard requested.I pulled out my driver's license and handed it over."I'm Mrs. Chloe Hunt," I explained. "Dorian is my husband's uncle. I'm here to see him, to represent my husband and pay our respects."The guards exchanged glances, checking my ID against some list on a clipboard. After what felt like an eternity, the first guard nodded."You can go in," he

DanikaI stepped out of Dr. Morrison's office with my mind racing through logistics. Seventy-two hours to pull off the impossible. I needed a realistic mannequin that could pass as Dorian's corpse, at least long enough for the death to be pronounced and the body "prepared for burial."I pulled out my phone and searched for high-end mannequin companies in the city. Most specialized in retail displays, but one listing caught my attention: "LifeLike Figures - Custom Realistic Mannequins for Medical Training and Film."Perfect.I called immediately."LifeLike Figures, this is Andrew speaking," a professional voice answered."I need to speak to the manager," I stated urgently. "It's extremely time-sensitive.""That's me. How can I help you?""I need a custom mannequin," I explained, choosing my words carefully. "An exact replica of a specific person. How fast can you create it?"There was a pause."That depends on the level of detail required," Andrew replied. "For a basic figure, maybe a

MitchelleThe private hospital in Geneva was exactly what I needed. Modern, discreet, with a reputation for treating high-profile patients who valued their privacy above all else.I walked through the pristine corridors toward the administrative office, my hand rested instinctively on my small but growing belly. At nearly three months pregnant, I was just starting to show, though my loose clothing still hid it well enough.The receptionist looked up with a professional smile as I approached."Good morning, how may I help you?""I'm here to arrange a medical transfer," I explained. "A patient in critical condition will be arriving from the London, and I need to ensure everything is prepared for his care.""Of course," she replied, typing something into her computer. "Let me get Dr. Castellano for you. Please have a seat, it will just be a moment."I settled into one of the comfortable waiting room chairs and tried to calm my racing thoughts. Everything had to go perfectly. Dorian's lif