The Doctors Appointment
Dr. Robert Hale believed he understood human nature. That arrogance would be the last thing he ever felt. Elara had been studying him for weeks — his routine, his patients, his penchant for late-night office visits with “select clients” that never made it into his schedule. She didn’t need to guess what happened behind those closed doors; the women’s faces told her enough. Tonight, she dressed the part — a fragile, trembling “patient” in a modest coat, clutching her bag as though it held her sanity. She rang the buzzer at 9:03 p.m. Hale answered himself, clearly intrigued. “Miss… Rowan?” he asked, scanning her face for vulnerability. “Yes,” she breathed, letting her voice break. “You said… you could help me.” He smiled, the kind of smile predators think was charming, and ushered her
- Writer
