CONTROLLER DAMAGE
1626 Words
Victoria did not believe in rushing decisions, but she also did not allow things to drift. By the time the house fell into its usual quiet that evening, her mind had already settled on what needed to be done. She sat at the edge of her bed, her phone resting lightly in her hand, her posture relaxed, her face calm in a way that revealed nothing of what she was thinking. To anyone else, it would have looked like a normal moment. But Victoria had never been a woman of idle moments.
She dialed the number without hesitation.
The call connected quickly.
“Madam,” the voice came through, low and careful.
Victoria leaned back slightly, crossing her legs, her tone steady. “How is she?”
“Weak,” the matron replied. “Still recovering. No major improvement.”
“That’s fine,” Victoria said. “She doesn’t need to improve.”
There was a brief pause on the other end. “Yes, madam.”
“And you’re still overseeing her personally?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I don’t want changes. No adjustments that will strengthen her condition.”
“I understand.”
Victoria’s fingers tapped once against her arm. “Make sure she eats.”
“She has been refusing at times.”
“Then stop her from refusing,” Victoria said calmly. “She doesn’t get to choose.”
“Yes, madam.”
Victoria’s gaze shifted slightly, her tone lowering just enough to carry weight. “You are aware she has certain sensitivities.”
The pause this time was more noticeable. “Yes.”
“Then be attentive,” Victoria continued. “Places like yours… things are missed. People overlook details. Especially when they assume everything is under control.”
“I understand.”
“I expect you to,” Victoria said. “Make sure she takes what she’s given. Properly.”
“Yes, madam.”
Victoria did not repeat herself. She never did. “Keep it quiet.”
“Of course.”
The call ended.
Victoria lowered the phone, placing it beside her. There was no visible reaction, no satisfaction, no doubt. Just stillness. She leaned back slightly, her mind already moving past the conversation. She had set things in motion. That was enough. The rest would follow.
Across the city, the hospital remained unchanged on the surface, its quiet routine masking the constant movement beneath it. The matron stood for a moment after the call, her phone still in her hand, her expression tightening slightly before she slipped it away. She understood what had been said, even without direct words. She had worked long enough to recognize instructions that came wrapped in calm voices and careful phrasing.
She adjusted her uniform and stepped into the corridor, her face composed. Nothing about her suggested anything unusual as she walked toward Ashley’s room. Nurses passed her, some greeting her, others too busy to notice. Everything looked normal.
She stopped at the door briefly before entering.
Ashley lay on the bed, her body still weak, her movements slow. Even turning her head required effort. Her eyes were open, but there was a tiredness in them that had settled deep.
“You haven’t eaten,” the matron said, moving toward the table.
“I’m not hungry,” Ashley replied quietly.
“That’s not an option.”
The matron pulled the tray closer and removed the cover.
Ashley turned her head slightly, her eyes settling on the bowl. The food was blended, smooth, almost too smooth. She frowned faintly, pushing herself up just enough to look closer.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Fruit blend,” the matron said. “It will be easier for you.”
Ashley stared at it for a moment longer. Something felt wrong. Not obvious. Not immediate. But enough to make her hesitate.
“There’s pineapple in it,” she said.
The matron paused. “There shouldn’t be.”
“There is,” Ashley insisted. “I can smell it.”
The matron picked up the bowl, her expression tightening slightly. “You’re imagining it.”
“I’m not,” Ashley said, her voice still weak but more certain. “I’m allergic.”
“You need to eat.”
“I can’t eat that.”
The matron stepped closer, holding the bowl out. “You will eat.”
Ashley shook her head, her body already tense despite her weakness. “Please… just check it.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
The matron’s patience thinned. She dipped the spoon into the mixture and brought it closer. “You’re making this difficult.”
Ashley turned her face away. “I said I can’t—”
A knock interrupted her.
The matron froze briefly, then turned. A nurse stood at the door, slightly out of breath. “Ma, the doctor needs you. Immediately.”
The matron frowned. “Now?”
“Yes.”
She glanced back at Ashley, then at the bowl, irritation flickering across her face. Slowly, she lowered the spoon and placed the tray back.
“Don’t touch it,” she said. “I’ll be back. And you will eat it.”
She turned and left.
The door closed.
The room went quiet.
Ashley didn’t move at first. She waited, listening, making sure no one was coming back immediately. Her breathing was uneven as she slowly turned her head toward the tray again.
Carefully, she reached for it and lifted the cover. The smell was clearer now.
Pineapple.
She was certain.
Her hand trembled slightly as she held the edge of the tray. She knew what that meant. She knew what could happen if she ignored it.
But she also knew something else.
If she refused completely, they would force it again.
And next time, she might not get the chance to avoid it.
Slowly, she dipped the spoon into the mixture. Her hand hesitated just above it before she brought a small amount to her lips. She didn’t take much. Just enough.
She swallowed.
Then she waited.
A few seconds passed.
Then she reacted.
Her breathing changed first, becoming uneven. She pressed a hand against her chest, her face tightening as if discomfort was spreading through her body. She let the spoon fall back into the bowl, her other hand gripping the edge of the bed.
“Ah…” she let out softly, forcing the sound, letting it build just enough to seem real.
Her body shifted, her shoulders tensing, her breathing becoming shallow. She leaned forward slightly, as if trying to steady herself.
Then she stopped.
Just like that.
She held still, listening again.
No footsteps.
No one returning.
Slowly, she straightened, the tension leaving her body.
Her breathing steadied.
Her expression changed.
The reaction faded.
She looked at the bowl again, her eyes sharper now despite her weakness.
“I can’t take this,” she whispered.
With effort, she reached to the side and pulled open the drawer beside her bed. Moving slowly, carefully, she lifted the bowl and placed it inside. She covered it quickly and pushed the drawer shut.
Then she leaned back, adjusting herself, letting her body relax again into the same weak position as before.
By the time the matron returned, Ashley’s eyes were closed.
The matron walked in, her steps more direct this time, her attention immediately going to the table.
The tray was gone.
She stopped.
Her eyes shifted to Ashley.
“You ate it?” she asked.
Ashley opened her eyes slowly, as if just waking. “Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
The matron stepped closer, studying her face. Something about it didn’t sit right. Ashley had resisted strongly earlier. Now she had eaten everything without further argument.
It didn’t match.
“How do you feel?” the matron asked.
Ashley hesitated just slightly, then pressed her hand to her chest again. “It… affected me a little.”
The matron’s eyes sharpened. “What do you mean?”
“Just… small reaction,” Ashley said weakly. “But it passed.”
The matron stared at her.
That made even less sense.
A reaction should not pass that quickly.
Her gaze moved slowly around the room, scanning, searching. The table was clear. The floor was untouched. Nothing obvious.
But something was wrong.
She stepped closer, her suspicion growing quietly.
“You finished everything?” she asked again.
“Yes.”
Ashley held her gaze just long enough, then looked away, as if too tired to maintain eye contact.
The matron’s expression tightened slightly.
She wasn’t convinced.
Not completely.
Her eyes flicked once more around the room, more careful this time, more deliberate. She was close to noticing something, close to pushing further.
Then a voice came again from the corridor.
“Ma, they need you.”
The matron exhaled sharply, irritation clear now. “Again?”
She looked back at Ashley, her gaze lingering.
There was something here.
She could feel it.
But she couldn’t confirm it.
Not yet.
“Rest,” she said finally, though her tone lacked certainty.
She turned and walked out, slower this time, her thoughts unsettled.
Back in the room, Ashley remained still until the footsteps faded.
Then she opened her eyes again.
Her hand moved slowly to the drawer, resting on it.
She didn’t open it.
She didn’t need to.
Her gaze fixed on the ceiling, her expression no longer just weak, but aware.
Something had been done.
She was sure of it now.
And whatever it was…
It wasn’t over.
Far away, Victoria remained calm, exactly where she had been, unaware that what she had set in motion had not gone exactly as planned.
Not completely.
And sometimes, that small difference was where everything began to change.
- Writer
