I went to go see Charlie the jour after his ‘accident’. Carlisle had told the other doctors that Charlie had tripped while cooking and hit his head off the corner of the cuisine table. Charlie didn’t disagree with that. I was surprised. I thought that he would turn me in, tell the police that I had tried to murder him. But he didn’t. When he saw he smiled widely. This shocked me. I know I wouldn’t be smiling at the person who had tried to kill me.
“Kayla,” he welcomed me, his voice full of warmth. His head was wrapped in a white bandage. “How are you?”
I sat down on the chair...
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