Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Quintessa glanced at Tyrone with a hint of mischief. “Since Mr. York is so keen today, let’s just say I’ll let you in on a few more secrets!”

Though she couldn’t eliminate Tyrone, she couldn’t keep being threatened by him either.

If he already knew one of her secrets, well then, she might as well let him in on another. Transform him from a mere witness into an accomplice.

Quintessa always lived by the rule: If I can’t have it my way, neither can you.

Tyrone was all too eager, and so, he was going to be dragged into the mire as well.

Tyrone raised an eyebrow. “I’m game!”

A surge of excitement bubbled within him, reminiscent of the thrill he felt during his school days when getting up to no good–it was oddly invigorating.

They pulled up to the outskirts of the hospital in Tyrone’s car.

The hospital was quiet in the dead of night, with few souls around; an eerie silence pervaded the air. They could almost smell the antiseptic even before getting too close.

Quintessa hopped out of the car and headed straight for the inpatient building.

Tyrone grabbed her arm. “You’re really planning to just waltz in like that?”

Quintessa rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly think I’m that stupid?”

Dodging hospital surveillance, they made their way to the on–call room where the nurse was sound asleep. Tyrone clearly saw Quintessa effortlessly unlock a secured closet and pull out a white lab coat and a set of scrubs.

In the ladies‘ restroom, Quintessa said, “Put it on.”

Tyrone refused, “I don’t do second–hand clothes.” Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

Who knew what kind of person had worn those scrubs before? Tyrone never used anything that wasn’t his own.

Quintessa snorted. “Really?”

The next second, she spun around and turned on the faucet, then she grabbed a cup that had been lying around for who knows how long, filled it with water, and drenched Tyrone with it.

Tyrone, getting all soaked, exclaimed, “You!?”

Quintessa dropped the cup and held up the lab coat. “You’ve come all this way tonight. You’ll wear it whether you like it or not.”

She was determined to drag Tyrone down with her.

He looked at his wet shirt, then back at Quintessa, and suddenly wondered if he’d been led astray by her.

Tyrone raised an eyebrow, wearing a mischievous smirk on his face. “You going to dress me?”

In the harsh fluorescent light, his wet figure managed not to look disheveled. Some people always seemed to carry an air of sophistication, no matter the circumstances.

As he gazed upon that face that could dazzle time itself, Quintessa felt a teasing itch. “I’m more used to taking clothes off than putting them on.”

Tyrone stepped closer and closer, until his face was inches from hers. “Taking clothes off is definitely better. We’re alone here!”

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The Innuendo in his voice was crystal clear, just short of outright suggesting they make the most of their privacy.

Quintessa pushed away Tyrone’s wandering hand. “Fine, I’ll help you get dressed.”

As she helped him into the lab coat, she commanded, “Let’s go, Mr. York!”

Both wearing surgical masks, they left together.

Tyrone led the way; he was not even flinching as they passed the surveillance cameras. The inpatient building was deserted, and their footsteps were the only sound echoing through the halls.

They reached the ICU ward without incident. Under her mask, Quintessa’s smile was dark and sinister.

She grabbed Tyrone and pulled him into the room.

On the bed lay Matthew, eyes closed; his complexion was deathly pale, with an oxygen mask strapped to his face.

Quintessa gently caressed Matthew’s cheek and whispered tenderly, “Dear brother, your sister is here to visit.”