Music Recommendation: Beautiful Things by Benson Boone
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"Quickly..." Ken's tone was laced with urgency and fear. "...the patient in this room has gone missing. Find her. Check all the CCTV footage, especially the ones installed in this room. Make sure no one comes in or goes out until she's found. Also find the two buffoons I stationed outside her room."
"Yes sir."
All four security guards swung into action, each moving with a sharp focused urgency.
Just then, nurse Gail recalled something weird that happened the previous night and quickly spoke up.
"I remember something, sir." She said, raising a trembling finger in the air.
Ken, who was about to leave the room, whipped his murderous gaze to her.
"Spit it out." He thundered.
"Okay...." Nurse Gail placed her shaking hands on her pounding chest as she narrated her story.
"Last night, I heard some weird noises coming from this room. So I came to check on her. That was when I found Miss Carmelita. She was awake and sitting up on the bed. She looked kind of confused and disoriented like she didn't know who she was."
Nurse Gail paused, shrinking backwards as Ken slowly walked back toward her like an enraged tiger preparing to pounce on its prey.
"Keep talking," Ken said, his voice low and spine chilling.
Nurse Gail bobbed her head vigorously and continued her story, while praying to the heavens for mercy on her poor soul.
"Are you kidding me?" Ken's deep and lethal voice boomed like a thunderclap–eyes wide and bloodshot, with teeth bared in a snarl. "You expect me to believe that a fragile pregnant woman who has been in a coma for almost four weeks attacked and struck you cold?"
"I swear....I'm telling the truth." Nurse Gail whimpered, almost peeing on herself in terror.
"Sir we have found the men guarding her room." One of the security guards from earlier, ran into the room, panting from the short sprint down the hallway.
The guard was closely accompanied by an averagely tall and imposing man in a navy blue suit, with an air of authority clinging to him like a second skin. He was the managing director of the hospital.
Ken whipped his head backwards, a vein pulsing at his temple.
"Good morning, Mr Silva." The managing director greeted politely with a curt bow. But he was completely ignored by the enraged young boss.
"Where are they?" Ken demanded harshly, his narrowed gaze on the security guard.
"We took them to the security house for interrogation." The security guard continued with his report. "But according to one of them, a redhead nurse knocked them out and locked them in the janitor's room."
"What!" Ken's voice cracked in disbelief. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" He tilted his lethal glare in the manager's direction, spittle flying with every one of his furious words. "Bring me every redhead nurse in this facility now."
"None of our hired nurses wear such colour, sir." The director's voice trembled with fear.
"There's one more thing, Sir. This mysterious person also left this phone with a recorded message on it. We listened to it and it was a female's voice claiming to be the patient." The security guard said, holding out a mobile phone.
"What?" Ken's shoulder sagged, the fire in his eyes dimming as he collected the phone with a trembling hand. His pounding heart threatened to leap out any second.
Just then, the head security guard barged into the room, unannounced.
"Sir, we just finished checking the security footage from last night."
"And..." Ken raised a brow in annoyance.
"It seems someone accessed our security system and wiped the entire footage from 9:00 PM last night. Also, this person deactivated all the CCTV cameras in this room, the hallway, the elevator, the reception and the exit, programming it to resume recording at 5:00 AM this morning. This has got to be the work of a very good hacker." The security head reported, feeling useless at the moment.
"You all are incompetent fools." Ken roared, his eyes burning with a heat that could incinerate anything he gazed upon.
"We are sorry sir." They all bowed their head, trembling with fear.
"Get out! All of you." Ken bellowed, pointing at the door.
Instantly, everyone scrambled out of the room, their footsteps pounding against the tile, urgent and uneven, as if they could outrun the rage chasing them.
In that brief moment of silence, Ken pressed the play button on the audio message, and an angelic voice filled the void in the room.
[Hiraya:
To a dearest friend and guardian,
By the time you are listening to this, I'll be long gone, not out of ingratitude, but because some goodbyes are too heavy to speak aloud, and some emotions too deep to survive the weight of the presence.
I have watched your dedication over the past weeks that I have been in a coma, and I can tell for a fact that you are a good man with a kind heart.
I don't know how to thank you—not with words at least. You stayed by my side when I had nothing to give, when I couldn't even open my eyes to see your face. You brought me flowers that I couldn't even smell. You spoke to me through the silence, carried me through the darkness, and guarded my life when I couldn't fight for myself. You help preserve not just the life of one but two. You gave me time. You gave me another chance. You gave me back myself and for this I remain indebted to you.
Please don't take my leaving as a wound. Take it as proof that your strength, your kindness, and your quiet courage did what even medicine couldn't. Also, do not hold a grudge against the kind-hearted nurse or the two guards, for that matter. Extend my apologies to them for taking advantage of their kindness.
You will always have a sacred place in my heart.
Goodbye and thank you.]
Ken stood frozen, the silence around him louder than any scream as the audio message came to an end.
His breath hitched in his throat, and his chest tightened as if an invisible hand had wrapped around his heart and squeezed out his soul without mercy.
His eyes, once sharp with pride and certainty, brimmed with a raw, aching vulnerability as his gaze shifted to the empty bed.
The space she left behind felt cavernous, echoing with memories that now cut like glass. He tried to swallow the lump rising in his throat, but it clawed its way up, thick with grief and disbelief.
His trembling hand ran through his hair, then dropped helplessly to his side. His knees were threatening to give out, not from the pain of his body, but from the shattering within.
The truth sank in like poison. She's gone, gone like the wind.