Marcus’s mind was a flurry of nightmarish thoughts. His worst fear was about to come true. Franny O’Rourke was going to do him in.

“By the way, Dr. Marcus, your wife filed for divorce. Once she realized all your accounts were frozen, she had the papers drawn up,” the nurse explained in a matter-of-fact way.

Marcus’s neurons were firing rapidly. Even though he was relieved that he would be rid of her, he asked himself, How does the nurse know about that? As they moved farther down the hall, Marcus noticed several gurneys on which lay bodies covered in sheets. His heart started racing when the nurse stopped. The nurse checked the chart of one of the corpses and swapped it with Marcus’s.

“That ought to do it.” The nurse smiled down at him and pulled a large black body bag from a shelf. He disconnected the traction and lowered Marcus’s leg. He slipped the bag under Marcus’s body and pulled it up until it was over his shoulders. Marcus was in a panic. The nurse wrapped the top of the bag around Marcus’s head, reached for the zipper, and zipped him in like a mummy. “Don’t you move or say a word. Or you’re a dead man,” the nurse whispered through the bag.

Marcus held his breath, waiting for the next blow. The nurse proceeded to push Marcus along until they came to the large doors at the end of the hall. A black van that looked like a hearse was waiting.

He felt the gurney being raised and slid into the back of the parked van. Once the van was far enough from the hospital car park, a voice from the front seat addressed him. “Good morning, Dr. Marcus. We are here to inform you that you are a dead man.” Marcus almost pissed. “Officially, that is.” The woman’s voice was clear. She reached around the seat and pulled the zipper down, uncovering his head and face. “You are being transported to a nursing home, where you will recover under the name James Sherman. Once you are able to walk and function, you will remain at said nursing home as a member of the custodial staff for the rest of Mr. Sherman’s life. You will never venture more than a hundred feet from the facility. To make sure you do not, you will be monitored. Do I make myself clear? Grunt once for yes, two for no.”

One grunt. Marcus was hearing the words, but they made no sense. There would be no trial, but he would be under house arrest forever. The more he thought about it, the more confused he got.