Chapter 304
Elizabeth's heart dropped like a rock, and she rushed to the window to peek down.
The white was getting drenched in bright red. Even in his last moments, Mark clung to his work badge.
It hit Elizabeth why Mark ditched his lab coat earlier.
He could get dirty, but his lab coat? Never. It was his pride and joy, and he wouldn't let anyone mess with it, not even himself.
Elizabeth gulped, her hands slowly balling into fists, and then she turned to leave.
Alexander frowned and trailed after her.
Elizabeth headed downstairs. The security guards were already setting up a perimeter. The emergency docs rushed over, but soon they were shaking their heads at each other. Someone eventually covered Mark with a white sheet.
Elizabeth watched the scene, stumbling back a step.
Suddenly, she felt a hand on her waist. She turned her head, met Alexander's eyes, then quickly looked away. She took a couple of steps forward to put some space between them.
"Is that Dr. Fisher?"
"Dr. Fisher actually jumped?"
"What went down? I heard Dr. Fisher wrote the report. Is that true?"
Elizabeth crossed her arms and covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Mark had actually jumped. This was the last thing Elizabeth saw coming. But she forgot how proud Mark was. Losing his doctor status left him with no choice but to end it all.
Elizabeth bit her lip, her brows furrowed like they were stuck that way.
"Elizabeth, you good?" Alexander asked, worried.
Elizabeth shook her head, signaling she was fine.
"Talk to Esme and comfort her," Elizabeth told Alexander. Though, Esme would never jump.
Next up was notifying the family, the cops getting involved, and the hospital dealing with the body.
By the time Elizabeth got home, it was already the middle of the night.
She lay in bed, her mind a mess, filled with the image of Mark lying in a pool of blood.
Elizabeth sighed and sat up in bed.
She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and opened Instagram.
Sure enough, the incident was trending.
After all, Mark was the deputy director of cardiothoracic surgery. Reaching that spot was a big deal.
Elizabeth read the comments and saw that Mark was actually well-liked by netizens.
Many people said Mark had a great attitude, and some even praised his medical skills.
Elizabeth closed Instagram, not wanting to look anymore. The more she looked, the more frustrated she got.
Elizabeth propped her face up, and in her Facebook racing group, messages were blowing up.
Elizabeth clicked in and found a bunch of racers bored in the middle of the night, planning a race.
Unable to sleep, Elizabeth changed clothes and headed out.
As she went downstairs, she ran into Declan drinking water. "Where you off to this late?"
"Oh, nowhere," Elizabeth brushed him off and left.
Amber Road.
The racers had already started a race.
Elizabeth wore a mask, a black hoodie, and a hat. At a glance, it was hard to tell it was her.
"Sign up here if you wanna race next lap," someone called out.
Elizabeth walked over silently and said, "I'm signing up."
The person looked Elizabeth up and down and said, "A woman?"
"Yeah, so what?" Elizabeth shot back.
The person laughed and replied, "Nothing. Just don't cry if you lose."
Elizabeth hated hearing that crap. The stereotype of women always seemed to be "couldn't handle it" or "would cry if they lost."
Today's women were tough and didn't cry at the first sign of trouble. Everyone knew that while venting was okay, crying didn't solve problems.
Elizabeth signed a word: Pig.
Then she signed the safety notice.
Just as Elizabeth finished signing up, a guy wearing a baseball cap came up behind her.
