8 Chapter 8: Time Wasting Effort

Emory's POV:

More journalists interviewed me regarding my case. I kept telling them that Caron was innocent, and I was the guilty one, but convincing them was... very difficult.

The interview always met a dead end when I couldn't mention the identity of the people I killed. They couldn't confirm whether or not I was telling the truth.

I couldn't disclose the identity of the people from the organization because if further investigation happened, their activities would be exposed. It would badly affect their family members and further the notion of Caron being a criminal for being friends with them.

I might be the one who killed them, but I knew they didn't deserve any of those... not the problem, not my betrayal...

I thought I could prove Caron's innocence, but in the end, it went nowhere... 

I couldn't keep doing this, I should find Caron. She must be in a difficult situation right now...

.

.

.

.

.

The doctor was just done checking my wound. According to him, only one scar remained. It healed slower than others, but it was nothing to worry about, more reason to leave soon.

"I've been here long enough. I should leave soon."

"You still need a bit more time."

"I'm not trying to run away without paying if that was what you worry about. I'm paying it now."

I was going to pay, but... there wasn't enough money in my wallet... I forgot that I didn't usually bring much money.

"May I... pay it later?"

I felt bad for requesting it, but what else could I do...

"It was paid already, so don't worry about it."

"I don't remember paying it. When did I do that?"

"Someone else paid it for you."

It was good news, but there should be nobody who would do that. 

"That was very generous of them... May I know their name?"

"I can't disclose a client's privacy."

"Even though it's related to my bills?"

"You were not the one who paid for it, so you can't."

I wasn't sure if that was how it worked, but I should go soon, so I let it slide. Whoever they were, I hoped I could pay them back someday...

"I'm grateful for their generosity, but still, I should go now."

"One more interview Emory, I already scheduled it."

Again, he never told me whenever he scheduled any interviews with a journalist. Wasn't it supposed to be my choice whether or not I wanted to accept it?

"Sure..."

It would be the last one, so I should be patient about it.

.

.

.

.

.

While waiting for the interview, I finished packing my things. Everything was ready, so I could go as soon as the interview ended.

Everything was here, except for my gun. I gave it to Caron that day, but I wasn't sure where it was now. I had spare guns at my home, so I should be fine.

"Going already, Emory?"

It was the friendly nurse from the other day. He was checking me after treating someone next to my room.

"After one interview, yes. Thanks for everything."

I said my thanks earlier since he was busy. There might be no chance to say it later.

"Good to know that you're okay now. Didn't know you're going to leave soon, though, since you still have some interviews left."

"But... the doctor said it was the last one?"

"Did he? Then, maybe I heard it wrong? Honestly, I'm not so sure anymore..."

I had been patient all this time, but wasn't this a bit too disrespectful?! 

"The thing is... I am busy. I can't delay it any longer... Can you tell the doctor to give those journalists my home address?"

"Since you're busy, sure. Also, good luck with whatever you're trying to do."

The nurse proceeded to go to another room after saying goodbye.

Back to this interview problem, should I do it or leave it? The doctor might get extra money from the journalist, so he agreed on it without thinking. If that was the reason, it might take forever for me to be allowed to leave.

It might be a bit rude, but I should leave now. Any later and the doctor would find an excuse to keep me here.

.

.

.

.

.

I went out of my room and walked to the stairs. Before reaching the end of the three-way junction corridor, I heard the doctor's voice from the right corridor and instantly stopped. 

It was awkward to meet him now since I decided to ditch the interview after agreeing to do it.

While I was thinking about what kind of excuse I should say to him, another voice caught my attention. It was the friendly nurse's voice.

"Emory decided to leave soon for urgent business. He said that if any journalist comes looking for him, you could give them his home address."

I did ask for the nurse to explain about my leave. Hopefully, the doctor didn't mind.

"He left?!"

"Yes, and he's fine, no need to stay longer."

"You need to find him now!"

"What? Why?!"

"Because it's not done yet! If Emory left now, I'm gonna get killed!"

The doctor was strangely scared. He would be killed? What was he talking about?! And what did it have to do with me?!

"Calm down, doctor! I don't understand what you're saying!"

The nurse was confused, but still, he tried to calm the doctor down. I was curious about the rest of the conversation, but I should retreat before they notice me.

.

.

.

.

.

I was back in my room and wondered about it, but still, I couldn't make any sense of it. They might hide something, but I wasn't sure what it was.

But what did that have to do with me? I wasn't sure what I got myself into, but I had a bad feeling about this...

"Emory, are you still there?!"

Oh no, it was them! I should get away, but how?! I glanced around the room, looking for a hiding place or... a way out.

There was a window directly facing the tree. 

Without thinking much, I opened the window and jumped. I managed to grab a tree branch to help my landing, but... 

ARGH!

The force got my arm dislocated... I hold my scream in my mind, not letting any of it out. If I did, they would find me!

"He was gone already."

"Contact his phone! Now!"

"I heard you, doctor! No need to shout!"

From outside, I could faintly hear their voices. The doctor still panicked, while the nurse was calm enough despite the rush.

Now I should run away. If my phone rang, they would hear it. So I ran despite my dislocated arm. I felt bad for leaving after what I heard, but I had a bad feeling that I would get dragged into something worse if I stayed.

My phone rang a few times, but it stopped after being ignored for a while.

Not sure what kind of situation the doctor was in, but I hoped everything would work out for him...

.

.

.

.

.

When I arrived in a more crowded area, I walked at a normal pace since running in a crowd might draw some attention.

Eventually, when some people saw my bleeding arm, they went away with a shocked look on their faces. They might be thinking that something dangerous happened nearby.

As I walked closer to my destination, I wondered about what the doctor said earlier...

"Because it's not done yet!"

What was he talking about? What did it have to do with me? Was it something he couldn't do if I left?

Ugh...

Aside from my dislocated arm, there was an unhealed scar on my side. It was supposed to heal soon, but after the rough landing, it became worse. It was unfortunate, but I could bear it, so I pressed on.

I was still unable to figure out what the doctor said earlier, but it might be not the right time for that. For now, I should hurry...

.

.

.

.

.

I reached my destination. It was Caron's apartment... but what did I even come here for? Caron was gone, so it was meaningless to be here... Yet my leg unconsciously brought me to this place...

"Huh?"

Someone caught me standing in front of Caron's apartment door. I hoped I didn't look suspicious.

"Don't move."

The stranger pointed his gun at me... I guessed I must be looking very suspicious...

I put my hands on the air since I didn't want to cause any ruckus. My broken arm was slightly lower than the other since it was hurting.

"What are you doing in front of my home?"

So, Caron's room was rented to someone else already...

"I'm not a thief if that's what you're thinking."

"Said every thief ever. How should I know if you're honest?"

"Umm... You can search me if you think I took anything."

"...Sure."

The man opened Caron's home using his key. Well, it was his home now...

"Get in."

The man put his gun on my back as he lead me inside. It shouldn't be hard to prove that it was a misunderstanding, right?