Chapter 4

There was a knock on Prince's door as the person opened the door without being invited in.

  Prince awoke abruptly and looked at the clock on the desk beside the bed, it was 3:00 A.M.

  What the hell did she want by this time of the day? Night was the only time he could rest considering the fact that he was a lawyer who normally had a lot of clients than supposed.

"Anne, what on Earth are you doing in my room at such a dreadful hour?" he called out. His voice was husk and stern.

"It's good you are awake," Anne said nonchalantly. She hesistantly walked in.

"Lower your voice," Prince muttered.

  He slowly came out of the bed. He was putting on a blue pajamas. Anne carefreely surveyed the room and within a twinkle of an eye she caught a glimpse of Whitney asleep on the bed.

  "Jeezz!" Anne exclaimed.

  "What's that for?" Prince retorted. "You're going to wake my fiancee up."

   Prince could tell Anne was surprised at the fact that Whitney slept in his room. He quickly held her by the hand and dragged her out of the room. Shutting the door. "She sleeps here," he explained. "In my bed."

"But you guys are not married. There are plenty of rooms in your house."

"What do you want? Especially in the middle of the night." Prince hissed. "Water, chocolate, jam, bread, food __"

"I need to have a word with you," Anne interrupted him.

"You are having a word with me." He pointed out.

"Not that! I want to speak to you on an important issue."

"Fine. What is it?"

At that moment everything seemed to freeze.

"I want to pay a visit to Toronto hospital," Anne said.

"Why?" Prince asked.

"My father was admitted in Toronto hospital, right?" She asked.

"I and my fiancee's wedding is around the corner and we would probably be occupied with the necessary preparations."

"When is the wedding?" Anne asked not sounding surprised.

"The day after tomorrow," Prince said tentatively. "And I have to get ready. She fears that I might postpone the wedding."

"Hmm," Anne chuckled.

"Fine but I'm not going without my fiancee." He uttered.

"I have no problem with that." Anne agreed.

 Prince stared at her animously. "Pray she agrees. I ain't going anywhere without her."

"You should be the one to pray because if she doesn't, then no wedding." Anne quipped.

"Goodnight then, please don't disturb my sleep again. I do not joke with my night sleep." He said while he walked back to his room.

"I'm sorry for being impulsive." Anne remorsefully appologized.

Earlier the next day, Anne had gotten out of bed. She was wearing a skimpy blouse and a khaki short. She sluggishly walked out of her room. While shutting the door, Prince approached her.

"Good morning Anne." Prince said.

Startled, Anne said, "Good morning."

"Well... she agreed."

"You got a nice fiancee."

"I think you should emulate her."

Anne eyed him. "Emulate her?"

"Yeah. Or don't you like her character?"

"I never said that."

"I don't know. It's up to you."

"Enough of her please."

"Let's go have breakfast. She is waiting for us at the dinning table," Prince said.

   They both zoomed off down the stairs.

"Good morning,"Whitney said.

 Anne stared at Whitney. The yellow silky gown she wore, brought out her contours. She looked elegant. It also brought out a perfect figure. Unlike other days, her make-up was different and light.

She looked more elegant than usual.

"Good morning," Anne answered, coming out of her reverie.

"Good morning Anne," Whitney replied. "Hope you had a pleasant night rest?"

"I managed to though I was restless half of the night. But I'm good!" Anne said.

After the breakfast, they all went to get ready for the hospital.

Prince Anthonio was thinking as he drove his black Peugeot up the road. The bare maples of the church foot hills rose stark against a crisp sky, but the peaceful setting did little to stop his thinking.

    Anne seemed to fuel his mind with some sad memories. Her father's death, a devastating loss, the emotional scars of which still raked at Anne's heart. Anne's only solace was knowing that the death, with ironic compassion, had liberated her dad from a deep despair over a miserable punishment to his heart.

   Prince drove down the road, turned into a private access road and steered to a stop.

  While the guard scanned his car for bugs, Anne gazed out at the mamoth structure in the distance.

    Two minutes later, Prince meandered his car down the pathway and crossed the landscaped grounds to the main entrance where a carved granite sign announced- "TORONTO HOSPITAL."

The three of them got out of the car. Anne felt like she was entering the shadow world where the problems thundered in like freight trains and the solutions were meted out with barely a whisper.

   As the three approached the final checkpoint, Anne wondered why she was here in this goddam hospital.

"Good morning," the guard said as they approached the steel doorway.

The guard held out three tiny swab for them to take.

  "You know the drill," he said.

 Prince and Whitney took the hermetically sealed cotton swab and removed the plastic cover. Then placed it in their mouth like a thermometer. They held it unto their tongue for two seconds. Then leaning forward, they allowed the guard to remove it. The guard looked at Anne, "Are you not coming in?"

"Oh," Prince said, turning to Anne, "Take the goddam swab and do what we did."

Anne shrugged and raise an eyebrow, "You didn't tell me, this was how it was done." She pouted. "So you don't expect me to know what to do."

   The guard stretched the tiny swab to her, "Now you know."

"Precisely," Anne said, collecting the swab and giving Prince a look which meant, "What next?"

"Remove the plastic cover and place it in your mouth," said Prince in a total whisper.

 Anne nodded and did exactly as he said then leaned forward as others did. The guard inserted Anne's swab into a slit in a machine behind him. The machine took four seconds to confirm the DNA sequence in Anne's saliva. Then a monitor flicked on, displaying Anne's photo and security clearance and he did the same to others. He pulled the used swab from the machines and dropped it through an opening where it was instantly incinerated.

"Have a good day." He pressed a button and the huge steel doors swung open. As they made their way into the maze of the bustling corridor beyond, Anne was amazed. The hospital encompassed more than two thousand agents, nurses and doctors involved and had operating costs of more than a billion dollars per year.

The hospital did not only save lives but help people thwart diseases, locate help in advanced medical ways and give policy makers, scientists, surgeons, chemists, physicists, biologists, brewers, vertenarians and other health workers the help needed to make informed decisions on enormous army of topics. This includes the vaccine of covid-19.

However, Anne couldn't help but think why would they not involve themselves in critical situations, her father's case was an example. Business was what the hospital was for but by law, maintenance of lives was their aim. Why would they not give the police the truthful information? They wanted to keep their reputation. They didn't want to risk it by sharing any confidential information anyway. What did they think? They would be able to escape accountability by never admitting that my father was murdered and did not die as a result of lack of strength to survive? What did they think? They would go bankrupt or worse be destroyed by scadals and everybody would lose? Did they think that man's future was in the hands of places like this God-forsaken hospital or they had responsibility to the future of people and medicine? They endangered my life and future just for them to cover up their mistake, negligence and inadequate security...

"Anne what do you want?" Prince asked bringing Anne back to reality.

"My dad was just fifty-one when he died. His long life turned into a short stressful and sorrowful life with struggles and problems. This hospital added to his sorrows," Ann expressed. "Firstly I want to meet the person that handled the registration and the director of this hospital."

"Anne." Prince called.

No response.

"If you're okay with what you want to do, who are we to stop you?" Asked Whitney.

Anne found her way to the receptionist.

"Hi. I want to see the director."

The receptionist who was immersed in what she was doing raised up her head and asked, "Our director? Do you have any appointment with him?  He would have placed a call to me if you had an appointment with him. As long as you have not come for a fixed meeting with the director, I'm sorry, you can't see him.