Chapter 23

Anson opened his eyes with great difficulty. His head felt groggy, and his vision was somewhat blurred; almost as if he was swimming underwater. He forced his eyes to open but for some reason, one felt like it had been glued shut while the other had too many boogers in it.

He must have groaned from frustration for suddenly, the door to his room opened and a young nurse peeked in only to have her orange-hued lips drop to an open.

“Anson Banks is awake!” she called out to someone in the hallway outside and the door swung to a close, leaving him alone once more.

He felt like death warmed over but it was so much better compared to the numbing wave of paralysis that engulfed him earlier. He hadn’t even been able to make a sound when Amber visited him earlier, let alone move his fingers. The temporary paralysis was, without a doubt an experience he never wanted to go through again. He recalled waking up not being able to move or speak and feeling as if he had been frozen in ice. It took all of his strength and willpower just to blink his eyes.

Amber…

He vaguely remembered his sister calling out to him. She had asked him questions. Yes, but what were they again? Why was he having trouble remembering?

Anson was not given the time to think for the door to his room opened once again. This time, the nurse was accompanied by a doctor and a strange-looking man. The doctor came over to him and pulled out a tiny torchlight from the pocket of his lab coat.

“Mr. Banks, I’m going to shine this in your eyes,” he waved the torchlight over Anson’s head. “And I’ll need you to relax. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Anson managed to croak out.

The doctor nodded, obviously pleased that his patient could finally speak. He motioned to the nurse, “Start him on fluids and if his digestive system works, take out the urinary bag and stop the IV,” he then proceeded to lift one of Anson’s eyelids and shine a bright yellow light into his eyes. The doctor’s fingers were icy cold, and Anson winced, not liking what he was feeling.

The doctor nodded again, checking Anson’s other eye. It was the eyes that was swollen shut. It hurt slightly at the touch of the doctor’s hand.

“Don’t worry young man, you’re well on the road to recovery. Try and move your fingers.”

Anson wriggled them for the doctor to see. It felt great to have control over his body again.

“Good, good, you’ll be up and walking in no time. You’re recuperating faster than I imagined.”

By now he noticed three simple letters sewn on the doctor’s coat. It spelt L-E-E.

“Doctor Lee,” he called out, feeling thousands of needles scratching his throat. “I want to see my sister.”

The doctor flashed a warm smile at him, and crow’s feet appeared at the sides of his eyes. He bent over and checked the bandage on Anson’s scalp and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder before turning to his nurse, “Give his sister a call. She can visit him now if she wants to but limit the interaction. He still needs to rest.”

With that, the doctor stepped aside to speak quietly to the young man who came in with them. The lanky young man with a stubble stood out like a sore thumb. He looked nothing like an intern, but Anson could see him nodding attentively to the doctor all the while resting his hand on something in his back pocket. He eyed the man from head to toe; dressed in a black leather jacket, a plain grey tee and dark blue jeans that were evidently too tight for whatever he had in his pocket, the man looked more like a …… police?

Oh fuck.

“Alright,” the doctor patted the police on his shoulder, his voice finally audible, “I’ll leave Anson in your care. Nurse, come with me. I’ll need to run through the charts with you.”

The nurse who had been diligently standing by Anson’s bed all this time nodded and followed the doctor out, but not before Anson caught her giving the policeman a flirtatious wink. The police returned her gesture with a light smack on her butt.

Anson’s mind whirled into motion. If the police were here, then that would mean Amber had not gotten her hands on the blueprint. Then he finally remembered; she had asked if Liam Smith was responsible for everything.

She knows. She knows it's him!

“Anson Banks?” the young plainclothes police officer walked over to his bed as soon as the nurse closed the door behind her.

Anson dipped in silence as he tried to calm himself.

Panicking’s not gonna work. I need to hear him out first, he told himself.

“Your fingerprints were found on the murder weapon of Vincent Rodriguez and that makes you the prime suspect of the murder case. You have a right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

Anson sighed and nodded his head again. He was amazingly calm given what was happening right now.

“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

He swallowed and coughed slightly. The officer immediately squeezed a wet cotton ball on his lips. The man was surprisingly very attentive to him.

“I wish to speak to my sister,” he said after licking the water from his parched lips.

The police pursed his lips and replied, “Yes, Betty, I mean the nurse will be contacting her. But I have to say, your sister’s really looking out for you.”

Anson tilted his head slightly on the pillow in response. He had a bad feeling Amber was up to something.

“She says she can prove your innocence in three days,” the police said with a smirk, seemingly impressed.

Anson frowned, But she doesn’t have the blueprint…

Was she going to get it within these three days? He had to find out. He didn’t want her to pull a dangerous stunt just for his sake. She had sacrificed too much for him already, forsaking her own education and youth just to pave a brighter path for him.

“I need to talk to her. Hurry, please find her for me.”