Cage
Cage 162

Chapter 162

The next day, bright and early, Eliana showed up at the hospital with an elderly lady in tow. Unsure if Marilyn would recognize me, Eliana planned to have me wait outside just in

case.

Finally getting through the long line, Eliana came back fuming with the registration slip in hand.

“Can you believe this? À scalper sold a specialist’s appointment for a grand?”

“If I knew this was such a cash cow, I’d bring a lawn chair and camp out here daily.”

Listening to her rant, I couldn’t help but feel a knot of anxiety in my stomach.

If my dad’s situation was indeed tied to Garfield, then wouldn’t Marilyn recognize me too?

Eventually, we decided I’d wait in the hallway while Eliana checked if there was anything off about Marilyn.

Eliana’s appointment wasn’t until noon, and it was a good while before she and the elderly Hady reappeared.

“How did it go?”

Eliana steadied the elderly lady, signaling me to step aside.

“The lady is alright, regular medication and rest should do her good.”

“Dr. Thompson’s patients are mostly terminal cases. Most people I saw were there out of desperation, and surgery might not even help.”

“But Dr. Thompson is kind. She’s warm to everyone, regardless of their financial status, unlike other specialists.”

She gave me a meaningful look, and I nodded in understanding.

If patients came from all over, the chances of their crimes being linked back to them were slim. Besides their illnesses, the police wouldn’t replace any connections.

Moreover, these individuals must’ve sought treatment far and wide, making it impossible to link their crimes directly to Marilyn.

Especially since Marilyn was known for her equal treatment and compassion. If I were in dire straits, I’d probably go out of my way for someone who cared for my condition too.

Just as we were about to leave, someone bumped into me.

“Sorry, I’m off to a surgery, my apologies.”

A pleasant female voice rang out. As I turned, the woman paused, a flicker of panic in her

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eyes.

I recognized her immediately as Marilyn from the photographs.

In the next moment, she continued apologizing, pretending not to know me, and hurried off towards the surgery room.

Instinctively, I wanted to follow, her glance confirming she definitely knew who I was.

“Ouch~”

Suddenly, a janitor cart almost tipped over, and I, along with a few bystanders, rushed to steady it.

The janitor, an old man, bowed repeatedly, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

His voice was raspy and unpleasant, and his posture bent, not helped by the ugly scars, possibly burn marks, on his hands.

A nurse quickly came over, “Emory, are you alright? We’ve told you before, you don’t need to clean this area. Just taking care of the trash is enough.”

The old man waved off the concern, apologizing again and even helping me brush off my now dirty clothes.

I was certain I had never heard his voice before, nor did I recognize him.

Yet, there was something oddly familiar about him.

“Sir, are you alright? Your hand is bleeding. Let me help you get that checked.”

“No need, I’ve got more floors to clean,” he insisted.

I moved to examine closer, but the old man quickly wheeled his cart away.

I stood there, puzzled, watching him go.

Eliana followed my gaze, “You know that old man?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know him, but something felt eerily familiar.

And I was sure I saw him deliberately tip the cart towards me. Was he trying to stop me from following Marilyn? But why?