Chapter 8
The steady, rhythmic beep of the cardiac monitor vanished, replaced by a continuous, high-pitched tone that sent immediate panic through the room. Clara’s eyes rolled back into her head, and her body went completely rigid as the line on the screen flattened into a terrifying, unmoving straight line.
“Code blue! Room 402! We need a crash cart in here right now!” Detective Vance bellowed, throwing the hospital room door wide open into the hallway.
Nurses and a rapid response physician came rushing in, shoving past Julian and Maya to get to the bed. The doctor immediately began chest compressions, shouting orders for adrenaline and the defibrillator paddles while the frantic staff cleared the space.
Maya grabbed onto Julian’s arm, her fingers digging deep into his sleeve as she trembled uncontrollably. “Julian, she’s dying! She’s actually dying!”
Julian didn't move. He stood like a statue amidst the chaos, his eyes fixed entirely on Clara’s limp body as the medical team fought to restart her heart. But beneath his calm exterior, his mind was racing, tracking every subtle movement of the attending physician.
As the nurse applied the defibrillator paddles to Clara’s chest, Julian noticed something odd. The lead physician wasn't looking at Clara’s face or checking her pulse; he was staring intently at the IV bag hanging overhead, his hand subtly reaching up to adjust the flow valve.
“Clear!” the doctor shouted, and Clara’s body jerked violently as a jolt of electricity surged through her.
The heart monitor continued to flatline. The doctor shook his head, shouting, “Time of death: 11:42 PM.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He lunged forward, pushing past the medical staff with surprising force, and grabbed the IV bag hanging from the metal pole before anyone could stop him.
“Don't touch that!” the doctor yelled, his voice laced with sudden, palpable panic.
Julian pulled the bag down, inspecting the small barcode sticker slapped over the manufacturer’s label. He peeled it back with a sharp tug, revealing a completely different serial number underneath.
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“This isn't saline,” Julian said, his voice deadly quiet as he looked up at the corrupt physician. “This is potassium chloride. You didn't try to save her. You finished the job Clara started.”
Detective Vance whipped around, his hand instantly dropping to the service weapon at his hip. “Nobody move! Drop the bag, Doctor, or you’re under arrest right now!”
