Chapter 292
So many pills had been forced into her that some had broken apart, mixing and fermenting in her stomach. That was one of the reasons she died.
Most of the procedure fell to Charlotte. With her right hand injured, the whole thing was brutal. By the time they finished, her scrubs were completely soaked in sweat.
Roger was strong and used to standing for hours, but even he felt drained after six hours on his feet. Across from him, Charlotte hadn’t complained once, not even a sigh.
“Asclepius, do you want to take a break?” Roger finally asked. They still had to do the sutures, and that was even more delicate. Plus, she’d be doing it with her left hand.
“No need.” Charlotte shot him a blank look, then went right back to her work. “You can leave now.”
Roger paused, watching her closely, his voice dropping a little. “Let me help.”
“You’d only get in the way.”
Her tone was flat, but her hands moved steadily, stitching with a skill that almost erased the wound. Roger watched, amazed. There was barely even a mark-now he understood why everyone at the Forensics Society insisted on Asclepius. No one else came close.
There was nothing he could do, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone in the autopsy room. He went to the clean room, swapped out his gloves, and came back with a tissue to dab the sweat from her forehead.
Charlotte tilted her head up without a word. For a second, her smooth, fair brow and those dark, bright eyes caught his gaze. Roger’s heart skipped, that odd feeling of familiarity hitting him again out of nowhere. He was sure he didn’t know her, so why did she feel so familiar?
He kept staring. Charlotte’s face grew colder, her eyes dropping. “Keep staring and I’ll take your eyeballs out,” she snapped, her voice sharp.
No way he knew a girl that fierce.
***
By the time the sutures were finished, the sky was pitch black Charlotte stood over the body, now looking almost untouched, and closed her eyes for a second before gently pulling the white sheet over.
“Hey, clean up the mess,” she said, tossing her gloves aside and heading straight for the disinfection room.
Roger froze, his face going cold, his smile tight. Apparently, that was all he was to her-an errand boy. Fine. This was a one-time thing anyway.
Now that it was finally over and he’d get to meet Charlotte tomorrow, Roger’s bad mood vanished. He’d heard she was beautiful and sweet, and suddenly he couldn’t wait to see her.
***
Imperial Heights.
Charlotte heard Anthony wasn’t back yet. After a quick shower, she slipped into bed,
a little disappointed. She was tired but couldn’t sleep.
Frowning, she tossed off the covers
and made her way to Anthony’s room. She keyed in the passcode like she’d done it a hundred times,
pushed open the
doot, and flopped
d. down onto his bed. The clean familiar scent was comforting, and she fell asleep almost instantly.
Anthony came home and searched the place, finally finding Charlotte sprawled across his bed. She wore a white silk pajama set, the top loose and half-slid off her waist, pants legs bunched up long pale legs dangling over the side.
Anthony’s eyes darkened and his throat tightened. Was she doing this on purpose?