Chapter Five ~ Haunted
1272 Words
TWO HOURS AFTER DINNER
Betty sat alone in the large living room, the silence settling heavily around her. Her laptop glowed on her lap, reflecting against her tired eyes as she continued typing notes for work. After hours of tension from Fredrick’s shouting, the argument to the chaos it unleashed—all of it still clung to her chest.
Her head began to droop. Her fingers slowed. A long blink nearly pulled her over the couch.
“Damn… I’m getting sleepy,” she yawned. “And I still have to finish this research before tomorrow.”
She rubbed her eyes, staring at the mountain of work in front of her, exhaustion clearly written all over her face.
Betty is a senior medical doctor. After graduating from medical school in London, she began working at her family’s hospital.
Foster Medical Institution isn’t just any hospital—it’s one of the largest, most advanced, and most expensive in the country. Many A-list celebrities and rich people, usually billionaires choose it for treatment, especially when they want privacy or prefer not to leave the country.
As if summoned, Carlota appeared from behind the couch, carrying a steaming cup. Her steps were gentle, her presence comforting in a way that only someone who had watched you grow up could be.
“Miss Betty, here. Drink.” Her African accent wrapped around the words like a soft blanket. “Sleep is already dragging you. I brought you coffee”
Betty smiled gratefully and sat up straighter. “Thank you, nanny Carlota.”
She accepted the cup and took a slow sip. The warmth spread through her chest.
Carlota looked at her with nostalgia—the kind that pulls the past into the room. “Hmm…" she began "...I remember when you were studying for your medical school entrance exam. You were so tiny. Tiny and serious. Always reading and always writing. you were very dedicated...” She laughed quietly.
Betty snorted. “Nanny… am I not still dedicated?”
“No, no, no...don’t get me wrong.” Carlota waved her hand. “You are still very much dedicated. But very soon you will marry the love of your life and leave me alone for the second time in this big house.”
Betty placed her cup aside and leaned into her with a soft laugh. “Awww, nanny. I’m not going anywhere. And marriage isn’t even in my brain right now. Let me build my career first. One step at a time.”
Carlota’s smile was proud, warm and almost motherly. She patted Betty’s cheek gently before stepping back.
“Okay, Miss Betty. I will leave you to work. Call me if you need anything.”
Betty nodded and returned her attention to her laptop. For a moment, the quiet felt peaceful.
But a short while later, the heaviness began to return—tightness in her chest, lingering anger, exhaustion creeping in from all sides.
She shut her laptop and stretched, grabbing her coffee. She needed fresh air. "I need a break..." She thought to herself.
She opened the large glass door that led out of the living room downstairs and walked toward the poolside, letting the night breeze cool her face. She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes—finally, a breath she could release without trembling.
Then,
A splash.
A body began to rise from the water.
Betty jolted so hard she nearly spilled her coffee. “WHAT THE HELL, RICHARD?” she shouted, clutching her chest.
Richard emerged from the pool, water sliding down his shoulders as he brushed his hair back. He was wearing swimming shorts, but the cold expression on his face didn’t change.
“What are you doing in the pool at this time?” she demanded.
Richard climbed out of the pool, water dripping down his shoulders as he grabbed a towel from the lounger. “And what are you still doing up at this hour?” he asked, his voice dry and flat.
“Well, I’m working… and I asked you first,” she shot back, lifting a brow.
He paused for a moment, then turned to her “Thank you.”
“For what?” Betty asked, genuine confusion softening her face.
“For standing up to that bully of a father.”
Betty scoffed. “You’re no better than him.”
Richard froze mid-wipe. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She didn’t hesitate to fire back. Betty is the type that don't hold her tongue back when she's mad. “You killed my best friend, you bastard.”
His jaw clenched. “Betty… you know it was an accident.”
“Yeah. Keep telling yourself that so you can sleep at night.” Her voice cracked with disgust. “You’re worse than Dad. How are you still breathing? How are you still able to sleep and wake up? Don’t you have a conscience?”
“Don’t you DARE compare me to Dad.”
“But you ARE your father’s son,” she snapped back. “Whether you like it or not.”
Richard let out a cold laugh. “You really think you’re a saint? You hid the secret all this time. You knew. You kept quiet. What makes you different from me?” He stepped closer.
“How do you still call her your best friend? You stabbed her in the back, Betty. You’re an accomplice.”
Her eyes flashed wide with fury.
“DON’T YOU DARE gaslight me. Don’t you dare. The only reason you’re not in jail right now is because all of you threatened me.” Her voice trembled—but she didn’t back down.
“But believe me...you’ll get what’s coming. All of you will. And I’ll be smiling when I watch you in handcuffs, heading exactly where you belong.” she paused, letting the silence stretch. "...IN JAIL"
Richard snapped.
He grabbed her by the neck and slammed her back against the nearest wall—hard enough to choke the air from her throat.
Betty gasped, her cup dropping and shattering behind her.
Richard’s face twisted inches from hers.
“That will NEVER happen,” he growled.
“You’ll die waiting. And if you really want to see crazy? Say one word to an outsider...JUST. ONE. WORD...and I’ll forget you were ever my sister. UNDERSTOOD?!!”
Betty clawed at his wrist, coughing violently, nodding over and over as if trying to say she understood.
“Miss Betty! Miss Betty! Mister Richard!”
Carlota’s voice cut through the night as she rushed out, having heard the shatter of glass—panic flooding her words.
She shoved herself between them, pushing Richard off with surprising strength.
Betty collapsed to her knees, coughing uncontrollably as Carlota pulled her into her arms. “Are you okay, dear? Miss Betty, breathe… breathe…” Her accent grew thicker with fear.
Richard didn’t wait for a response.
He backed away slowly—eyes dark and unrepentant, then turned and walked back toward the house, disappearing through the door without a word.
Betty coughed harder, shaking slightly on the ground, Carlota began stroking her hair with trembling hands. “Oh my child… my dear…”
“Nanny Carlota…” Betty choked out in pain, her voice trembling as she clutched her bruised neck.
“Shhh, shhh… it’s okay, dear” Carlota whispered, trying to steady her, gently guiding Betty’s head against her chest as she held her protectively.
Betty swallowed hard, the motion burning her throat. She fought back the tears—but they still came, spilling freely, streaming down her face like a river she couldn’t dam.
- Writer
