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Too Late, Mr. Johnston: She Is Gone Novel Cover

Too Late, Mr. Johnston: She Is Gone

Kara was diagnosed with cancer, and her unborn child could not be kept. Kara planned to end the pregnancy, get a divorce, and face her impending death with equanimity, allowing Davin and his new love, Alyse, to be together. But Davin had no intention of letting her go so easily. He and the increasingly frail Kara were inseparable day and night, just to leave a child for the infertile Alyse. Kara lay dying in her hospital bed, crying and laughing, pleading, "I'll give you my life, please let me go." Later, the cold and aloof man knelt before Kara's tombstone, holding gardenias day and night, his eyes red as he murmured, "Baby, stop it, come back."
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Chapter 2

Kara woke up to the smell of antiseptic and the rhythmic hum of a machine. Her body felt hollow. It wasn't just the physical emptiness in her womb; it was a spiritual vacuum, as if someone had reached inside and scooped out her soul.

She blinked, her eyelids heavy. The room was dim. There was a silhouette sitting in the chair next to her bed.

A spark of pathetic hope flared in her chest.

"Davin?" she rasped.

The figure moved. A hand covered hers. It was warm, calloused, gentle.

"It's me, Kara. It's Julian."

The hope died instantly, replaced by a crushing wave of disappointment. Her vision cleared. Julian Vance, her grandfather's nurse, was looking down at her with eyes full of worry.

"He didn't come, did he?" Kara asked. She pulled her hand away and turned her head toward the window.

Julian sighed. He poured a cup of water from a plastic pitcher. "The hospital called your grandfather as your emergency contact. He couldn't move, obviously. So he sent me."

Kara stared at the blinds. "The baby is gone, Julian."

"I know."

Julian adjusted the blanket around her shoulders. His gaze drifted to the metal chart holder at the foot of the bed. The top sheet was visible. Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia.

He stiffened. Kara saw his eyes widen. She reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't tell anyone," she hissed. "Especially my grandfather If he knows I'm sick, he'll give up. He lives for me."

Julian looked angry. His jaw worked. "You need treatment, Kara. Real treatment. Not just hiding it. The money... I can help."

He stopped himself. He was supposed to be a nurse on a salary. He couldn't explain how he had access to millions.

"It's no use," Kara said, closing her eyes. "I just want to make sure Grandpa is safe before I go."

Davin walked down the hospital corridor. He had left the gala early. Something about the way Kara had screamed on the phone had stuck in his gut like a fishbone.

He told himself he was just coming to verify her lie. To prove she was faking it.

He reached the door to Room 304. It was slightly ajar.

Through the gap, he saw her. She looked small in the hospital bed. And leaning over her, dangerously close, was a man. A man in cheap scrubs. The man was tucking a strand of hair behind Kara's ear.

Davin felt a surge of heat rush up his neck. It was irrational, violent jealousy.

He slammed the door open. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room.

Kara jumped. Julian spun around, instinctively stepping between the bed and the door.

Davin stopped at the foot of the bed. "So this is it?" Davin sneered. "This is why you were so desperate to get rid of my child? To make room for the help?"

Kara sat up, wincing as the stitches in her abdomen pulled. Her face flushed with anger.

"You are a monster, Davin."

Julian took a step forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "You have no idea what she's been through today."

Davin didn't even look at Julian. He kept his eyes locked on Kara. "Get out of my way, orderly."

He reached into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket and pulled out a checkbook. He scribbled a number, ripped the paper out, and threw it onto the bed. It fluttered down and landed on Kara's lap.

"Here. This is for your 'medical expenses,'" Davin said, the sarcasm dripping from his words. "Or pay your boyfriend. I don't care. Just stop calling me."

Kara looked at the check. Fifty thousand dollars. The price of her trauma.

She picked it up. Her fingers were shaking, not from fear, but from rage. She tore the check in half. Then in half again. She threw the confetti at him.

"Get out," she said. Her voice was quiet, deadly.

Davin felt a flicker of unease. He had never seen her look at him like that. Usually, her eyes were pleading, soft. Now they were dead.

He masked his discomfort with cruelty.

"Fine," he said, turning on his heel. "But don't expect me to keep paying for that old man's private suite if you're going to act like this."

He walked out.

Julian moved to chase him, but Kara started coughing. It was a wet, hacking sound. She covered her mouth with a tissue. When she pulled it away, it was spotted with red.

Julian froze. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her up.

"Take me home, Julian," she whispered, leaning her head against his chest. "I don't want to die in this room."

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