Read Online SICK: Psychological Thriller Series Novella 1 by Christa Wojciechowski - Free Book Online Page B

of how he walked me to the door. And he had not asked me for more Demerol. This meant I could go to work without any ulterior motives.
    I walked into Dr. K’s office. A girl was at the desk, one I had never seen before. She must have been from the temp agency and was alarmed when I pushed the partition open and breezed into the back office. “Miss. Excuse me, Miss.” She tried to stop me.
    I removed my coat. “It’s okay. I work here.”
    “You must be Susan,” she said.
    “Yes,” I said. “Where is Dr. K?”
    “Dr. Korn?”
    I flinched inwardly as her mouth formed the word.
    “Yes,” I said.
    “In room three, with Mrs. Johnston,” she said.
    “Okay, I’m going back to check the file room. Let him know I’m here.”
    She gave me a skeptical glance and sat back in her chair. I went back to the break room to put my lunch in the refrigerator before beginning my shift. Dawn was there, dumping artificial creamer from a large canister into her coffee. “What was it this time?” she asked.
    “Organ failure,” I said.
    “Goodness, is he okay?”
    “He’s doing really well. I think he’ll be okay now.”
    “He’s never okay, that boy,” she said.
    “This time is different,” I said.
    “I don’t know how you do it.” She shook her head. “And you better go talk to Dr. K. Word around here is that you lost your job.”
    I don’t know why I was shocked. He had every right to fire me, but it still hurt me, like the only sane thing I could hold onto in my life was being unfairly taken away. I was a good person. I worked hard. I took care of my husband. I had good intentions. How could I be fired?
    “Sorry, babe,” Dawn said. She left the room, and I sat at the small table trying to digest the information. Did Dr. K find out the Demerol was missing? Would he press charges? I had a sudden urge to flee, to run away and keep going, over the terrain, toward the oceans, until I fell down dead.
    Dr. K walked in next. He poured himself a cup of coffee and turned around and leaned on the counter. “Dawn told you?”
    “Yep,” I said.
    “I had to replace you. I’m sorry, Susan, but I need a receptionist. My office can’t revolve around your husband’s health issues.”
    “I know,” I said, “I know I shouldn’t have left the office like that, but he almost died.”
    “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said. “We were all praying for you here, and we’re so happy for his recovery.”
    “I think he might be cured.” I said. “You should see him. He’s out of bed and everything.”
    “It’s too late, Susan. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to the other girls. Take your time getting your things. You’ll get two week’s severance.”
    “That’s very kind of you,” I said.
    “You can start fresh somewhere else,” he said. “Let’s just hope John’s health cooperates.”
    I nodded and got up from my chair. I was weak and unsteady and thought I would burst into tears. It was too much. Just when things were finally beginning to look up, I was pummeled down again. I wondered when my punishment would end.
    I blundered around up front for my things as my replacement tried to do my work. I put all my papers and personal items into a file box and said quiet good-byes to the rest of the staff. They gave me awkward hugs and tried to pretend they weren’t relieved that I would no longer be a drag on the office. My car began sputtering and smoking as I backed out of my parking spot in one final humiliation for my exit.
     
    *
     
    I sank into a haze of hopelessness. I didn’t have the will to try to think of solutions. I didn’t even have the faith to pray. I was so absorbed in my worries; I didn’t notice the temperature gauge in the dashboard until I was a block from the house. Peter was right. The car needed coolant, but he probably didn’t feel inclined to put it in after I took his key away. The engine was overheating. I could smell the hot metal and the old rubber burning.
    I pulled