Chapter 99
KASMINE
+25 BONUS
I stood before the Leropita Psychiatric Hospital for over five minutes, unable to make a decision whether I wanted to go in or not.
The building seemed too cold and clinical, with its pale grey walls and tall glass windows that reflected nothing. but the dull, overcast sky. It smelled like rain was coming, the wind carrying the sharp smell of damp pavement and antiseptic.
My fingers curled tightly around the strap of my handbag
Would they even let me access Kester’s files?
Would I find what I was looking for?
My hands suddenly became clammy, and my heart picked up speed as I stared at the entrance of the hospital.
It was a bit too quiet, too.
Of course, not many people experience mental issues every single day. At least, so I thought.
Lexhaled, shoving the doubt aside.
I clutched my handbag closely, the strap sitting tightly on my shoulder as I entered the premises.
The lobby was cleaner than I expected, almost disturbingly pristine. The walls were white, the floors polished to a shine, and the air smelled faintly of disinfectant and something medicinal and stale, like the lingering ghosts of old prescriptions.
A receptionist sat behind a high desk, her name tag identifying her as Melissa. She looked to be in her late thirties, her dark brown hair pulled into a tight bun, her expression indifferent as she tapped away at her computer.
I approached, swallowing the dryness in my throat.
“Good morning,” I greeted, my voice coming out smoother than I felt.
She barely spared me a glance. “How can I help you?”
I guess I wasn’t so popular after all.
I hesitated for half a second, then forced the words out. “I’m here for some records. I need to confirm if someone completed their therapy sessions.”
Melissa finally looked up, her brows pulling together. “Are you a relative?”
I straightened my shoulders. “Yes.”
She gave me a tight–lipped smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m sorry, but we don’t release patient records
to family members without proper authorization. It’s against hospital policy.”
I expected that response, but it still irritated me. I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice.
“I understand that. But this is important. It’s about my brother, Kester.”
The moment his name left my lips, I saw the shift. Her posture stiffened, her fingers pausing over the keyboard.
She knew exactly who I was talking about. And now she knew who I was.
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“He was admitted here years ago,” I continued, watching her carefully. “I just need to confirm if he completed his
sessions.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “… I’m afraid I can’t help you with that, ma’am.”
The forced politeness. The sudden tightness in her voice. The way she glanced briefly toward the security cameras as if someone might be watching told a lot.
1 clenched my jaw, my skin prickling with frustration.
“Can’t or won’t?” I asked, tilting my head.
She quickly dropped her gaze, reaching for a random folder on her desk and flipping through it with exaggerated focus.
“I’ve already told you that patients‘ records are confidential”
“And I’m telling you,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous quiet, “that I have a right to know. He’s not just anyone. He’s the Alpha of our pack. The people in this hospital know that. You know that. So why are you pretending otherwise?”
Frustration bubbled beneath when she said nothing else.
Think, Kasmine.
I needed another approach.
I reached into my bag, pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper I had prepared in case of resistance.
“This is a signed request from our family lawyer. I’m not asking for detailed medical records, just a confirmation of whether or not he completed his therapy.”
Melissa barely glanced at it. “That won’t be enough,” she said flatly.
I expected that
I sighed, lowering my voice. “Look, I know there are rules. But I’m not just here out of curiosity. My brother’s mental health is a matter of serious concern. There have been… incidents. And if he didn’t complete his therapy, it could explain a lot.”
She didn’t react immediately, but I saw a small crack in the wall of indifference.
“You’re saying he’s a danger to himself and others?” She asked carefully.
I hesitated It wasn’t exactly what I meant, but I could tell that was the angle that might get the what I needed.
“I’m saying,” I said, choosing my words carefully, “that if something happens because this hospital refuses to confirm basic information, there will be consequences.”
She inhaled slowly, then picked up the paper. This time, she actually read it.
The seal from the family lawyer was legitimate. More than that, it implied that if the hospital refused to cooperate, they could be dragged into legal trouble.
Before coming here, I had gone to the family lawyer’s office under the pretense of handling unrelated legal matters for the pack–something I was well within my right to do. While there, I had casually inquired about past legal documents concerning Kester, mentioning that I was working on updating our family’s private records.
The lawyer, accustomed to dealing with delicate pack affairs, hadn’t questioned it. He had prepared the request, stamped with the official seal, assuming it was merely another administrative task.
Chapter 99
I watched her closely, pressing just a little more.
“Do you know what it’s like to watch someone unravel?” ked quietly. “To wonder if you could have stopped it if you had the right Information?”
Her jaw tensed.
That did it.
She sighed, setting the paper aside. “Wait here.”
And then she disappeared through the double doors.
The moment she was gone, unease settled in my stomach. But now, the unease twisted to a feverish point.
Why was it taking so long?
The reception area was nearly empty, save for a few outdated magazines strewn across a side table and the faint hum of the overhead lights. I paced, the soles of my shoes thudding softly against the floor.
Something wasn’t right.
I stole a glance at the door she had vanished through, my pulse drumming against my throat. What if she was stalling? What if she had gone to make a call?
Gods, Kasmine, stop overthinking. This isn’t a movie.
But no matter what happened, I wasn’t leaving without those records.
Just as the thought settled, the doors pushed open again. The receptionist walked in with her face carefully blank and a single file clutched in her hands.
It didn’t look as bulky as I expected it to look. It was way too scanty to hold the kind of reports I expected.
Where were the in–depth assessments, the notes detailing every step of his supposed progress, and the follow–up sessions?
She stopped in front of me, extending it. “Here you go.”
I looked around as if someone could be watching me before receiving it from her.
“It took you so long, ma’am,” I said with a forced smile, but my eyes searched hers.
She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a polite smile. This is from ten years ago, Miss…” She trailed off, waiting.
“Kasmine,” I supplied..
She nodded, already dismissing me as she returned to her desk, fingers flying over the keyboard.
I exhaled, moving to a seat in the comer where I could keep an eye on the room.
1 flipped open the file, my fingers running over the thin stack of papers.
Something about this felt off.
And I had a feeling I wasn’t ready to find out why.
