The Escort

39 - No better than her

The annoying, steady, and monotone beep of the heart monitor made her grow restless.

Each time that irritating, irksome sound interrupted the silence of the room, Laura's nails dug a little bit deeper into her thighs as she sat next to the hospital bed on which her estranged sister was lying.

She watched her. Thin, pale, ill-looking.

Stripped out of her makeup, professionally styled hair and tailored outfits, she was nothing but a shell of the person her big sister once knew and loved. She was a stranger, there was no connection between them whatsoever.

Even though Laura looked deep into her heart, hard-headedly struggling to find at least one single reason to feel something positive about the unconscious person in front of her, she couldn't.

She didn't cry, didn't even feel sad seeing her like this. Her initial instinct to keep her safe was slowly but surely washing away, as her darkest side wondered if it really would've been that bad to just... let her die. Especially now that she had learned the truth about how she killed their brother.

How could she? How wicked and evil could she be?

Her heart pounded hard against her chest, as anxiety grew within her. Her mind going through everything she had endured over the last ten years and soon found herself anguished when her mind drifted to the one thing that truly, deeply hurt her... The extreme to which Michael had come for her.

Murdering someone.

Even if it was framing Adriana into having an overdose, it was so cold and calculated, so cruel... So tremendously unlike him.

She felt guilty because she knew that if he had never met her, he'd still be a healthy, successful, carefree young businessman in New York, and his brother would be alive.

She had ruined his life, messed up his mental health, his relationship with his family, everything.

She buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. Oh, how she loved him... she honestly, madly loved him. And she wanted him. She refused to give up the chance to have a life with him, to be free with her angel.

Everything would've been for nothing if that dream was to be taken away from them. If Adriana miraculously came back to her senses and accused him or said something that could put Michael behind bars...

There was no way in hell she was gonna let that happen.

So she stood up and walked closer to her unconscious sister, she leaned down and softly kissed her forehead, as years of anger and held back resentment engulfed her. She bit her lips whilst she proceeded to grab the pillow from under Adriana's head, placed it over her face, and pushed down.

She held it firmly in place, watching the peaks of the monitor slowly getting lower and more spaced, until they drew a flat line and the sound became consistent.

Laura accommodated the younger girl's head, combed down her hair and once she looked exactly the way she did before her dreadful deed, she walked out and left the building.

***
Michael drove down Costo Venezia and parked outside the Design Boutique Hotel. He reached for the backseat to change his weed smelling button-up for a clean black one and sprayed on some perfume before getting out of the vehicle and into the venue.

He played with his car keys all the way up to reception, feeling utterly nervous but trying to hold himself together.

The receptionist greeted him. "Buona sera, signore. Posso esserle utile?"

(Good evening, sir. Can I help you?)

"Evening lady, umm... Io... Umm... Sto cercando Laura Carangi, sono suo marito. Ho perso la chiave." He chuckled nervously, patting his pant's pockets.