Full Strength

Four-Lillian ❤️‍🩹

Mr. Kingston lived about ten minutes way from me. So it was pretty unexpected when the GPS directed me into the rich neighborhood. Like the filthy rich, bathe in diamonds neighborhood. I wasn't doing too bad myself, but I was practically broke compared to the people that lived here.

        The gate guarding the house was incredibly intimidating. Carefully, I pulled up to the little keypad and put in the code that Jack had emailed me. For a terrible moment, nothing happened. Then I heard the mechanical whirring of the gears as the gate slowly drew apart. I drove in, wondering what other security measures were in place.

Parking was an issue. With no obvious spaces and no garage I could see, I awkwardly parked along the sidewalk leading up to the door. Hopefully no one else would need to drive through or stop by today.

        The house was really more fit to be a mansion. It looked newer, with sharp edges and lots of windows. The upper level was smaller than the ground floor, perhaps only home to a few bedrooms. The place looked quiet, but clearly lived in. The shrubbery and flowerbeds had been well-tended, and the windows seemed to throw back my reflection as if they were a mirror, they were so shiny.

I grabbed both my duffel and my backpack. The duffel was black and stuffed with various first aid supplies, some basic exercise equipment, and a couple blankets and gowns. My backpack was filled with my own belongings; a spare change of clothes, some snacks, and a book. The book was switched out frequently, since I often was bored when patients would fall asleep while I was working.

         Nervously, I approached the door, painted a charcoal color with a festive wreath hanging on the center. It might've only been early November, but Mr. Kingston was clearly the type to decorate as soon as Halloween was over.

         Ringing the doorbell, I stepped back and waited. I stood in the cold for a moment, holding my hands in my pockets, before finally I heard a shout. "IT'S OPEN!"

        I pushed open the door, the latch clicking behind me. The entryway went up through both floors, stark white and oddly sterile. While it wasn't dusty, I got the feeling that there usually wasn't anyone home.

"Hello?" I called, unable to tell where I was supposed to go.

"In here." Lugging my bags, I headed towards the voice. I entered an enormous living room. The first thing that caught my eye was the man in bed (as should most people when you enter a room and there's someone there), but my gaze quickly slid the window. It looked across a frozen pond, stretching out for what seemed like a mile into the snow-dusted forest.

I returned my attention to the man. To my great surprise, he was young. In fact, my age or so. He even seemed young in his appearance, his skin soft and his hair still dark and thick. His brown locks teased the tops of his eyebrows. His eyes were a deep green, like moss. But his face was hard to focus on when the lower half of his body was bound in a thick cast, creeping up towards his waist. He wore pants, but they'd been oddly cut so the right side was gone. I noticed how his leg was awkwardly on top of blankets, giving him some support.

"Good morning," I said cheerfully. "You must be Mr. Kingston."

"Logan," he said sheepishly. "Are you Dr. West?"

"That's me," I said. I'd only been called 'doctor' for a few years now, and I still hadn't exactly gotten used to it.

"Do you want a water or anything?" Logan asked. "There's some in the fridge."

"I'm okay, but thank you." Still trying to be hospitable, even in his condition. I immediately chose to like him.

"You can sit anywhere you'd like," Logan said politely. So I chose the cushy armchair a couple feet away from the bed, pulling out my tablet.