Page 22 of Nanny and the Beast

I’m safe.

Five minutes later, I pull into the hospital parking lot. Only now do I allow myself to scan the surroundings. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but he could be anywhere.

I hold my car key between my fingers like a weapon. In my other hand, I hold a small bottle of pepper spray.

Somehow, I muster up the courage to get out of the car.

The cool morning breeze brushes against my skin as I walk. There are security guards here, along with CCTV cameras. If someone wanted to hurt me, they wouldn’t do it here.

I enter the hospital and sign in.

Everyone inside is busy, but some of the nurses stop to briefly greet me.

I stop in front of the familiar door. It’s a semi-private room that houses three patients. Nurse Santos, a young Filipina nurse, is checking my grandmother’s blood pressure. Instead of walking inside the room, I linger at the doorway.

Nurse Santos removes the blood pressure cuff and says something to my grandmother before walking away. I step away from the door, making sure I’m out of view.

From my position, I can see my grandmother, but she can’t see me.

I watch her when she thinks nobody is looking.

I see the lines etched into her face. I see the exhaustion in her eyes.

I have to swallow the emotions that rise up my throat. She’s all I have left in this world. I don’t know what I would do without her.

The nurse steps into the hallway.

“Nurse Santos?” I whisper.

The woman startles, dropping the folder she’s holding. I pick it up for her.

“Emma, hi.” She gives me a bright smile. “And please, call me Tessa.”

I smile back at her. She has beautiful tan skin and the silkiest black hair I’ve ever seen. Her full name is stitched into her scrubs—Maria Teresa Santos.

“I made pumpkin pie and cupcakes for you guys,” I say. “I forgot them in my car, but I’ll leave them in the break room later.”

“A fight broke out the last time because of you,” she tells me.

“Over the dark chocolate muffins?” I ask.

She nods. “One of the nurses ate too many and didn’t leave enough for everyone else. World War Three ensued.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. I don’t think there’s a better feeling than people enjoying the food I make for them.

“Am I a terrible person for admitting that hearing that warms my heart?” I ask.

“No, you’re an angel from heaven,” she says, squeezing my wrist. “Thank you for thinking of us.”

Her pager goes off. She checks the message. I know she has other patients to attend to, so I cut to the chase.

“Are there any updates from the forensics department?” I ask.

She blinks at me. “Not yet. And if we find anything, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

That’s the same answer they’ve been giving me for weeks now.

“And how is my grandmother’s health? Is she improving?” I ask.

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