the waiting area,” she blurts out, her voice rising.
I keep my narrowed gaze on the woman. The way she keeps glaring at Evie has my hackles rising. And from Evie’s reaction, she’s used to being spoken to like that. For a place she’s clearly paying a whack for, she should be treated with respect.
I let Evie pull me away, and it’s a good thing too because I’m ready to give this woman a piece of my mind. She shoves me down onto the sofa, letting out a breath.
“Please be good. I won’t be long.”
I glance up at her, relaxing my expression. “Take all the time you need.”
She leaves and I lean back, resting my arms along the back of the sofa and spreading my legs apart.
In the corner is a coffee station, but when the label of the brand catches my eye, I revolt, changing my mind about moving to make one. We had one when we first started our company and it tasted like mud. I can’t think of anything worse than that brand.
I scan the room, ignoring the receptionist who is keeping a close eye on me, her eyes in slits.
I don’t get the TV’s mounted on the wall, playing a repeated ad about the facility. For one, it’s a waste of money.
A snort slips free at the loving family environment it portrays on the screen. It is fuck all like that here. I don’t see anyone smiling or sitting outside enjoying the fresh air. It looks more like a prison than it does a care home.
An alarm blares near the reception area and I sit up, concerned when two security guys come running out of a room.
“It’s Miss Wilson again,” one of the guards informs the receptionist.
I stand at hearing Evie’s last name being mentioned and begin to follow.
“You can’t go back there,” the receptionist yells, but I ignore her, following the security guards.
It’s only a few minutes before I hear Evie yelling, “Mum, please, it’s me.”
Her scream echoes down the hall, and I make it to the room in time to grab Evie before she falls to the floor.
There is glass on the floor from broken vases, the bedsheets are rumpled, and the chair is on its side.
A lady with blonde, knotted and frazzled hair screams in the corner. Her startling grey eyes, much like her daughter’s, are wide, her pupils dilated as she watches the guards approaching her. She kicks and slaps at the nurses, her face tight and bright red.
“Imposters. I don’t want her here. She’s poisoning me. He told me,” she screams, raking her nails down the guard’s face.
I wince, turning away to look down at Evie. Her face is pale, her shoulders slumped forward as she leans into my arms.
“Mum,” Evie brokenly whispers, collapsing into my arms.
I support her weight, holding her against my chest as another doctor steps into the room, holding a needle.
“What’s happened?” I ask softly, watching them strap her mum to the bed.
“She thinks I’m poisoning her.”
“Someone told her that?” I grit out, anger storming through me.
Who would be sick enough to say that to a sick woman?
“It doesn’t matter. We should go,” Evie whispers, sounding utterly lost.
“She’s calm now,” I tell her, pulling her into my chest and holding her close.
“It doesn’t last long. I don’t want her any more distressed than she is.”
“Miss Wilson, maybe coming here was a bad idea. We’ve warned you before about disrupting your mother’s care,” a doctor in his mid-forties barks.
Evie flinches, and I pull her behind me, stepping closer to the doctor. “Don’t fucking speak to her like that ever again. I mean it. Who the fuck do you think you are? Her mum is sick, and she wants to be here for her.”
His gaze sears through me, and then he looks over my shoulder. “I’d leave now, Miss Wilson, before I make a phone call.”
I feel her step up behind me, linking her fingers through mine, trying to pull me away. I don’t budge, staring at the man in front of me. “Evie, this is your mum. You have every right to be here.”
“Wyatt, please, take me home. I’m too tired,” she pleads, and I soften, pulling her into my arms.
Her mascara has smudged under her eyes from the tears falling. I inhale sharply at the three jagged scratch marks on her cheek. Her mum attacked her. Again.
Her shoulders hunch and she ducks her head, a sniffle escaping her. I squeeze my arm around her, running a hand up