Chapter 6 - The Resurrected Queen
The cinematic realism of the terrifying tension paralyzed the waiting room.
It wasn't a weeping surgeon who walked through the heavy double doors. It was Claire.
She wasn't on a gurney. She was sitting upright in a heavy medical wheelchair, pushed by her massive, heavily armed private security director. She was still wearing the pale hospital gown, and her arm was wrapped tightly in a thick white cast, but she looked completely, utterly terrifying.
She radiated the crushing, undeniable, and lethal energy of a resurrected titan.
Grant physically staggered backward, his dark suit suddenly feeling like a suffocating cage. He stared at his wife as if she were an actual ghost.
"Claire?" Grant whispered, his voice cracking into a high-pitched, pathetic squeal of pure terror. "You're... you're okay?"
"I'm significantly better than you wanted me to be, Grant," Claire stated clinically, her voice echoing perfectly across the dead-silent waiting area.
Tessa let out a loud, dramatic gasp, instinctively stepping behind Grant to hide from the furious woman in the wheelchair.
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Grant desperately tried to plaster his fake, grieving husband persona back onto his face. He threw his hands up and took a hesitant step toward the wheelchair, completely ignoring the massive security guard glaring at him.
👉 Grant dropped to his knees, completely prepared to lie his way out of hell.
