"I am here to pick up a body."
"Oh. I am sorry for your loss, sir. May I ask for the name of the deceased and your relationship with him?"
"Tom Hexley. I am— I am his fiancée."
"One second."
The nurse took her sweet time searching into the hospital files. Just how many bodies do they have in the morgue?
As the seconds passed by, the nurse's brow kept getting higher and higher until it was millimeters away from touching her forehead.
Either she is having a stroke or I have mistaken the hospital. No matter which one is true, she is clearly exaggerating her expressions.
"Sir?"
"Yes."
My tone had an ounce too much of annoyance in it. Her brow officially touched her forehead.
"Are you sure you're Mister Tom Hexlay is your fiancée?"
"Why the sudden suspicion? And why does it take so much? I am just trying to see my late lover."
"Luther?"
I froze when I saw him.
My brain didn't catch up right away.
Tom.
