The English Patient Novels & Stories

"Morning," When I heard that voice, my eyes widened, and I immediately became fully aware of them. I was in a big room; the things were black and gray, and in front of the bed, I could see the trees from outside the big glass window. A man in a long-sleeve polo shirt and a black vest stood, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was wearing black slacks while drinking alcohol. I know him. He is Cris, a friend of Trisha's boyfriend. I couldn't speak because I was too stunned to process it all. I admit that last night was so amazing; that's why my cheeks almost got hot when I realized what we did last night.

The word scrapes my throat. "You're in Naples, at Ospedale San Giovanni." Her accent carries hints of Spanish beneath cultured English. "I'm Eleanor. You're safe now." Safe from what? I try to remember, but there's nothing. Just empty space where my memories should be. A doctor appears—dark hair and kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. Dr. Rossetti, according to her badge. She asks questions I should be able to answer. "Can you tell me your name?"

Her voice was barely audible to him. "Where is she now?" he inquired. "She is in the town hospital." She said, raising her voice a little. Ethan got up and sauntered to the sitting room's glass wall to call someone while glancing at the girl. "Hello, doctor. Hold on, please." After pausing his call, he asked Arabella the name of the patient. "What is the patient's name?" "Angela Simon," she uttered. "I heard you have a patient called Angela Simon." He paused to listen to the doctor's words.

He ignored her, turning his attention to me. I pulled against my restraints, panic surging through my exhausted body. The straps held firm. I was a sitting duck. Kazi walked toward me. The whirrr-clank of his suit was terrifyingly loud. He stopped inches from my face, the smell of oil and old blood rolling off him. He looked at me with a mixture of disgust and pity. "Patient Zero," Kazi said, his voice low. "The boy who wouldn't die." "Please," I rasped, my throat raw. "I didn't do anything."

Everything smelled faintly of antiseptic and recycled air and something metallic she couldn’t name. England. She let the word settle. It didn’t feel real yet. Nothing had happened since the accident. Since the papers. Since the name she’d signed and unsaid and signed again. A nurse spoke in a calm accent, clipped and efficient. Chris answered questions automatically—passport details, medical history, allergies. He sounded steady. She watched his jaw tighten with every response, the muscle flicking like it always had when he was holding too much in. They wheeled her down the narrow aisle, past curious glances, past a woman pretending not to stare, past a child craning his neck.

She had become an addict and wasn’t sure if she wanted to stop cold turkey. They walked out of the door and found the doctor and his nurse standing by a large counter, a green bag with the clinic’s insignia sat beside him with a number of book edges poking out of the top. Creighton cleared his throat as they approached, hoping the other two had not overheard their conversation. The doctor turned to look at them, a very kind smile pulling his thin lips upwards. “I have some information for you,” he said, handing the bag to Sandra. “We have a few items in English, but I am afraid most are in French.”

If Declan was still around, he should have picked me up from the hotel, right? Deirdre was anxious as the person approached her with a smile and extended his hand for a handshake. “Hello, Miss McKinnon. Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m a physician of this hospital, and my last name is Engle.” ‘Physician?’ Deirdre was puzzled. She clenched her fists tightly, and Dr. Engle did not mind either. He pulled back his hand and said, “You can’t see, right? It’s fine, Miss McKinnon. Please take a seat so I can examine your face.”

“ Darkness in people… in demons! “ Shouted. He threw down the cards and started shaking his head. Wildly. The nurses immediately came and picked up the patient, taking him out of the room, but the patient was struggling. “ come with me, discover the darkness! The demon! While he was struggling, Betina talked to me, asked me questions but I couldn't even pay attention because the other patient was screaming. “ Navid, what did you think of me? “ Betina asked. I didn't respond, I was focused on the game again and wanted to finish quickly. Betina insisted on the question. I continued ignoring and playing. Another patient immediately undoes his puzzle game. “ This is impossible! Hollow head…empty

Chapter 123 I wiped my hands on a paper towel as I stepped out of the patient’s room with the rest of the team. We had just finished attending to an elderly man who had been struggling to breathe. The shift had been long, but I was grateful for the distraction. Work had become the only place where I could pretend, even for a few hours, that my life wasn’t falling apart.

I stopped by the receptionist's desk and the young lady flashed me a bright smile as soon as I got to her. “Hello, how may I help you?” the receptionist asked and I sucked in a sharp breath. “I'm here to visit a patient named Edward Peterson,” I said, my voice faltering slightly. “He was a patient here in Ward 21 three years ago. He was diagnosed with cancer.” I watched the receptionist's mouth form an "oh" as she looked down at the file in front of her. I knew what she was thinking - Edward had been here for so long, and it was a surprise to hear that he was still in the hospital.