Chapter Nine
343 Words
Shaun filled in Dr. George as they walked down the quiet corridor of Carlisle City Hospital. “We don’t know who she is or where she came from,” he explained, concern flickering across his boyish features. “But judging by the gown she was wearing… it looks like a ball gown, very expensive. I mean, someone like that doesn’t just wander around the highway by herself.”
He paused, frowning. “Maybe… she was robbed? Left for dead?”
Dr. George’s expression remained serious. “Could be a possibility,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “From my professional opinion, based on the injuries I’ve seen, it also looks like she’s been beaten. This wasn’t an accident.”
Shaun ran a hand through his sandy-colored hair, a touch of frustration in his brown eyes. He had been Kurt’s best friend since school, growing up in another of Bristol’s affluent families. The third young master of his own family, he had the charm and playfulness of a born socialite. Funny, boyishly handsome, with a love for polo matches and the occasional indulgent weekend, Shaun had a mischievous streak that often got him into trouble—but he took his work seriously, especially working for Kurt.
Always calling him “Sir” in public, Shaun had learned to separate business from play, though when they were alone, the teasing came easily. Despite his playboy tendencies—he hadn’t been tied down yet at twenty-eight—he had a sharp mind and a knack for digging up information. His Morrison family had a reputation in Bristol for getting to the bottom of secrets, and Shaun liked to think he’d inherited that gift.
Just then, his phone rang, cutting through the quiet tension.
Shaun glanced down at the screen. “Excuse me,” he muttered, answering with a quick swipe. “Yes…?”
Dr. George and Kurt’s other aides exchanged looks. Something told them this call might bring the first piece of clarity about the mysterious girl whose fate had suddenly become entwined with their lives.
- Writer
