?Chapter 1094:

    Quickly, the assisting nurse tried to exin, “I’m not just standing around. I’m waiting for the urine sample from a pregnant woman—”

    The other nurse didn’t let her finish. She grabbed her arm and said, “Let’s go. I’ll take you to Dr. Molina, thene back here for the pregnant woman. There are plenty of womening in for check-ups, and you need to handle the urgent ones. Dr. Molina said you mixed up the reports earlier, and if you don’t get it fixed, your quarterly review will be at risk.”

    Hearing the seriousness in her colleague’s voice, the nurse stopped walking and gave her a gentle pat on the hand. “You should stay here and help with the rest of the tests. The pregnant woman’s name is Carrie Campbell.”

    Even though she was clearly in a hurry, she didn’t forget her duties.

    The newly arrived nurse nodded and patted the shoulder of the nurse who had been with Carrie. “You can go. I’ve got this. I know the drill.” Pregnant women who came here usually had a regr doctor, but the nurses often rotated. Sometimes they even swapped out mid-appointment—no big deal.

    “Her maid stepped out to move the car. She should be back soon. She’s carrying a big Hermes bag…” The original nurse gave a quick rundown of Carrie’s situation and handed over her form before rushing off toward the doctor’s office.

    The new nurse watched her disappear down the hallway. Then, slowly, she looked at the form in her hand—and crushed it into a ball.

    She dropped it on the floor and stepped on it like it meant nothing. Next, she walked over to the restroom and hung an “Out of Order” sign on the door.

    Just as she finished, someone else approached.

    “This bathroom’s under repair,” the nurse said casually, waving her hand. “There’s another one if you go left. Use that one instead.” Then she pulled out her phone and sent a message: “Park at the side entrance.”

    Right after she hit send, Carrie’s maid walked in.

    gα?ησν???s is your story source

    Inside the restroom—five minutes earlier.

    The cleaningdy, after sending a message, peeled off her disposable mask. It was Lise.

    Even though Alethea had been more than generous, keeping her stocked with pricey supplements, a few days of vitamins weren’t enough to undo what time and prison had done to her.

    She still looked like a worn-down woman in her fifties. With a mask and hat on, no one gave her a second nce.

    Hatred simmered in her eyes as she put on a custom protective mask and made her way toward Carrie’s stall.

    She stopped in the stall right next to hers, opened the door, and stepped inside.

    It was empty—in fact, the entire row had been cleared earlier. She had made sure of that.

    Even from inside, she could still hear faint voices from the hallway.

    She double-checked her mask, her heart pounding.

    Then came the sound of a toilet flushing next door.

    Carrie was already done. Panicking, Lise fumbled for the spray in her bag, nearly dropping it.

    She raised it over the stall divider and pressed down. Once. Twice. Three times. Then again—and again. The person who gave her the spray had told her two or three squirts would be enough to knock out an adult.

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