…
The house seemed especially empty.
After her divorce, she had never been able to fill it with warmth and life.
The phone rang around 9:00 in the evening.
It was Thomas.
Phoebe, I need to pick up the rest of my things, he said without preamble.
tomorrow evening.
Sure, she replied, feeling the familiar weariness of these conversations.
The key is under the flower pot.
“How’s work?” he asked, apparently trying to keep the conversation going.
“Same as usual, nothing special.
” But that wasn’t true.
Something special had happened.
Although Phoebe couldn’t yet figure out what it was.
The next day, she waited impatiently to see Alex again.
There was no official reason for the meeting.
The test results hadn’t come back yet, and the next scheduled checkup wasn’t for another week.
But around noon, she found an excuse.
“Officer Cole,” she said to the guard, “I need to talk to inmate Ross again.
I have some additional questions about his medical history.
” Cole nodded, though a hint of confusion flashed across his eyes.
“Of course, doctor.
I’ll have him brought in right away.
” When Alex entered the office, he smiled.
Missed me, doctor? Phoebe felt herself blush.
I need some additional information about your treatment for the completeness of your medical record.
For the next half hour, they talked about medicine, but their conversation kept veering off into personal topics.
Alex talked about his plans after his release, his dreams of opening his own workshop.
Phoebe shared memories of medical school and how she decided to become a prison doctor.
“You seem lonely,” Alex said suddenly.
I’m sorry if that’s too personal.
Phoebe froze.
Why do you think that? I see it in your eyes.
The same sadness I feel.
We both know what it’s like to be misunderstood.
Those words struck Phoebe to the core.
She did feel lonely, especially after her divorce.
Work, home, rare encounters with colleagues.
That was her whole life.
Maybe, she said quietly.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door.
Officer Cole peaked into the office.
“Doctor, your time is up.
Your time is.
” Alex stood up, but before leaving, he said, “If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.
” After he left, Phoebe sat in her office for a long time.
Realizing that something had changed, she had crossed an invisible line, and there was no turning back.
A week had passed since her second meeting with Alex, and Phoebe found herself thinking about him constantly.
She caught herself looking for him among the other inmates during her rounds.
When his test results finally arrived, she felt relieved.
Now she had a legitimate reason to see him again.
Officer Cole, she said to the guard on Thursday morning, bring inmate Ross in for a discussion of his test results.
Jess Cole looked up from his paperwork.
In 15 years on the job, he had learned to read people.
And lately, Dr. Mitchell’s behavior had been making him uneasy.
too many additional consultations with one particular inmate.
“Of course, doctor,” he replied, but there was a slight edge to his voice.
“Is there something serious with the test results?” “Routine procedure,” Phoebe replied quickly, avoiding his gaze.
When Alex entered the medical office, his face lit up with a smile.
“Dr. Mitchell, it’s so good to see you again.
I hope my test results weren’t terrible.
” Everything’s fine,” Phoebe said, gesturing to the chair next to her desk instead of the usual medical couch.
But I wanted to discuss some aspects of your treatment with you.
Alex sat down, noticing the slight change in the setting.
He was observant and understood that the doctor treated him differently.
He could use that.
“You look tired,” he said softly.
“A rough week.
Phoebe was surprised by his insight.
She had indeed slept poorly, thinking constantly about their conversations.
“Just a lot of work.
How are you feeling? Any side effects from the therapy?” “Physically, I’m fine,” Alex replied, leaning forward slightly.
“But psychologically, you know, doctor, it’s very lonely here, especially for someone like me.
Most of the inmates don’t understand who I am, and the guards,” he shrugged.
“Is someone bothering you?” Phoebe asked quickly, feeling protective.
Not physically, but the looks, the comments, you’re the only one who sees me as a person.
Those words hit home.
Phoebe felt a warmth in her chest.
Alex, if you have problems with other inmates or the staff, you have to tell me.
What difference would it make? He looked her straight in the eye.
Formal complaints would only make things worse, but knowing that I have someone who understands means a lot.
Phoebe realized that the conversation was going beyond a medical consultation, but she couldn’t stop herself.
Tell me about your family.
Do they keep in touch? Alex’s face darkened.
My parents still call me by my old name.
My sister writes sometimes, but they don’t accept who I’ve become.
After I was arrested, we pretty much lost touch.
“I’m sorry,” Phoebe said sincerely.
“Do you have a family?” Alex asked, subtly changing the subject.
I had a husband.
We divorced two years ago.
Phoebe was surprised at her own cander.
Children? No.
Thomas wanted to, but I always put it off.
Work, career.
Her voice trailed off.
Do you regret it? Phoebe thought for a moment.
Sometimes, especially in the evenings when I come home to an empty house.
Alex reached out and gently touched her wrist.
Loneliness is poison.
I know.
The touch was fleeting, but Phoebe felt an electric shock.
She should have pulled away, reminded him of the boundaries, but instead she left her hand there.
“Doctor,” Alex said quietly.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” She nodded.
“When was the last time you felt truly alive?” The question struck her with its unexpectedness and accuracy.
Phoebe realized she couldn’t remember.
After her divorce, she had fallen into an emotional coma.
functioning on autopilot.
A long time ago, she whispered.
At that moment, the door opened and Officer Cole entered.
Sorry to interrupt, doctor, but your consultation time is up.
Phoebe flinched as if waking from a dream.
Of course.
Thank you, Officer Cole.
Alex stood up, but before leaving, he said, “Doctor, if the test results require further observation, I’ll be at your service.
” After they left, Phoebe remained sitting in the office analyzing what had happened.
She had crossed a professional line by allowing the conversation to become too personal, but at the same time, she felt more alive than she had in the last 2 years.
Jess Cole walked Alex back to the ward, watching him closely.
Over the years, he had learned to recognize manipulators, and something about Ross’ behavior alarmed him.
“How did the consultation go?” he asked with feigned casualenness.
“Dr. Mitchell is very caring,” Alex replied with an innocent smile.
“It’s rare to find such an attentive doctor.
” Cole made a mental note of the comment.
The next day, Phoebe found another reason to call Alex.
“This time,” she said he needed an extra testosterone injection 2 days ahead of schedule.
“Are you sure that’s necessary?” Cole asked, looking at the medical chart.
His hormone levels have been fluctuating a bit, Phoebe lied.
Better to correct it now.
When Alex arrived for his appointment, he immediately noticed the tension in the doctor’s demeanor.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, rolling up his sleeve for the injection.
“Of course,” Phoebe replied, but her hands were shaking slightly as she prepared the syringe.
“Doctor,” Alex said quietly.
“You can talk to me.
I won’t judge.
” About what? she asked, giving him the injection.
About what’s bothering you? About why you’re calling me in more often than is medically necessary? Phoebe froze.
What do you mean? I’m not complaining, Alex added quickly.
On the contrary, these meetings are the only bright spot in my days, but I understand that you’re taking a risk, and I’m curious why.
Phoebe lowered the syringe, realizing she couldn’t pretend anymore.
I don’t know.
Ever since we met, I’ve felt a connection.
Me too, Alex said softly.
You’re a special woman, Dr. Mitchell.
Compassionate, intelligent, beautiful.
The word beautiful hung in the air between them.
Phoebe felt her heartbeat faster.
Alex, we can’t.
Can’t what? He stood up from his chair and moved closer.
Feel care for each other.
It’s unethical.
I’m a doctor.
You’re a prisoner.
But we’re also two lonely people who have found understanding.
He gently took her hand.
Doctor, when I look at you, I see a woman who has forgotten how to be happy.
Phoebe didn’t pull away.
His touch was warm, gentle.
And when I look at you, I see a person who has been through so much pain, but has retained the capacity for tenderness.
Then why should we deny that? The question hung in the air.
Phoebe knew the right answer.
Professional ethics, institutional rules, career risk.
But emotionally, she was ready to do anything to feel alive again.
I’ll bring you a book, she said unexpectedly.
About medicine for educational purposes.
Alex understood the hint.
The book would be an excuse for additional meetings.
That would be wonderful, he said, squeezing her hand.
I love to read.
Meanwhile, Officer Cole watched what was happening through a small window in the door.
The consultation had been going on for 40 minutes.
too long for a simple injection.
He made a note in his notebook.
That evening, Phoebe went to the Alliance bookstore.
She wandered among the shelves for a long time before finally choosing a book on trauma psychology.
It was something that could be useful to Alex, but it also gave them a reason to have deep conversations.
At the cash register, she was recognized by Mary Johnson, a local teacher.
Phoebe, how are you? Long time no see.
I’m fine, thank you.
Just buying something for work, Mary looked at the book.
Trauma psychology, that’s heavy stuff.
Professional interest, Phoebe replied quickly.
At home, she leafed through the book, making notes in the margins, questions she could discuss with Alex.
She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn’t stop.
The next morning, she arrived at work with the book in her bag.
Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure everyone could hear it.
Officer Cole,” she said, trying to sound calm.
“Bring in inmate Ross.
I need to give him some educational materials.
” Cole looked at her closely.
“Educational materials? That’s not standard procedure, doctor.
A rehabilitation program?” Phoebe explained.
“It helps inmates better understand the psychological aspects of their behavior.
” Cole nodded, but his suspicions only grew.
After his shift, he stayed behind to talk to the shift supervisor, Sergeant Davis.
Sir, I have concerns about Dr. Mitchell and inmate Ross.
What kind of concerns? Too many consultations, too long meetings, and today she brought him a book.
Davis frowned.
A book? She says it’s educational material, but Cole shrugged.
Keep an eye on them, Davis said.
And report back if you see anything else suspicious.
Meanwhile, Alex sat in his cell, leafing through the book he had been given.
Between the pages, he found a small note.
I hope this book will help you understand yourself better.
I would like to discuss some of the chapters with you.
F.
He smiled.
The plan was working better than he could have hoped.
Dr. Mitchell was a lonely, vulnerable woman craving emotional connection.
And he was willing to give her exactly what she was looking for as long as it served his purposes.
3 weeks had passed since he had given her the book, and the relationship between Phoebe and Alex had entered a new phase.
Their meetings became daily.
Phoebe always found medical reasons, blood pressure checks, hormone therapy monitoring, discussing the psychological aspects of her diagnosis.
Each time the conversations became more personal and intimate.
On Monday morning, Phoebe entered her office with a small box of chocolates in her bag.
She had spent a sleepless night thinking about what she was doing.
The rational part of her mind screamed about the danger, but her emotional need for closeness was stronger than her fear.
Officer Cole,” she said to the guard, trying to sound casual.
“Bring inmate Ross in for his scheduled checkup.
” Jess Cole looked up from his paperwork, his face betraying his poorly concealed irritation.
“Doctor, this is the fifth routine checkup in the last 2 weeks.
Perhaps you could explain the medical necessity of such frequency.
” Phoebe felt the blood rush to her face.
“Officer Cole, I’m a doctor with 20 years of experience.
I think I know better than you how often a transgender patient on hormone therapy needs to be monitored.
Of course, doctor, Cole replied, but his voice was skeptical.
I’ll bring him right in.
When Alex entered the office, his face lit up with a familiar warm smile.
Over the past few weeks, he had learned to read Phoebe’s mood from the slightest signs.
Today, she was excited and nervous.
“Dr. Mitchell,” he said, sitting down in his usual spot next to her desk.
You look worried.
Was Officer Cole rude? Just doing his job, Phoebe replied, but his concern warmed her heart.
How are you feeling? How’s the reading going? The book you gave me has changed my perspective on a lot of things, Alex said, leaning closer.
Especially the chapter on how trauma affects your ability to trust other people.
Phoebe nodded.
It’s a difficult subject.
Many people who have been through hard times build protective walls.
like you,” Alex said quietly.
“After your divorce, you built a wall around your heart.
” “How do you know?” Phoebe whispered.
“Because I did the same thing until I met you.
” He reached out and covered her hand with his.
You changed something in me, doctor.
You made me believe that I am worthy of love.
The word love hung in the air between them.
Phoebe felt her heart skip a beat.
“Alex,” she began, but he interrupted her.
I know our situation is complicated, but feelings don’t ask for permission.
His voice grew even quieter.
I think about you every minute.
When I fall asleep, when I wake up, you’re the only thing that makes this nightmare bearable.
Phoebe felt the familiar dizziness.
I think about you, too, all the time.
Then why are we torturing ourselves? Alex squeezed her hand.
Life is too short for missed opportunities.
At that moment, Phoebe remembered the candy in her bag.
Impulsively, she took out the box and placed it on the table.
“I brought you something,” she said.
“A small gift.
” Alex’s eyes lit up.
“For me, Phoebe,” he said her name for the first time, and it sounded intimate and tender.
“It’s against the rules,” she whispered.
“But I couldn’t help myself.
” Alex opened the box and took a piece of candy.
“Want to try it with me?” Phoebe nodded.
And they put the candies in their mouths at the same time.
It was a simple gesture, but in the context of their relationship, it seemed incredibly intimate.
They were sharing a forbidden pleasure.
“Thank you,” Alex said, looking into her eyes.
“This means more than you can imagine.
” Meanwhile, outside the door, Officer Cole was checking the time.
The consultation had been going on for half an hour, too long for a routine checkup.
He quietly approached the small window in the door and peered inside.
What he saw confirmed his worst suspicions.
Dr. Mitchell and inmate Ross were sitting close together, holding hands with an open box of chocolates on the table.
Their postures and expressions left no doubt as to the nature of their relationship.
Cole cautiously backed away from the door and quickly headed for Sergeant Davis’s office.
“Sir, we need to talk,” he said as he entered the office.
“About Dr. Mitchell and inmate Ross.
” Davis looked up from his papers.
“What’s going on?” “I just saw them in a very compromising situation.
They were holding hands and she brought him candy.
This was definitely not a medical consultation.
” Davis’s face darkened.
“Are you sure you saw that?” “Absolutely, sir.
Sir, this has been going on for weeks.
Daily consultations, long private conversations, now gifts.
Dr. Mitchell is having an inappropriate relationship with an inmate.
Davis stood up from his desk.
These are serious allegations, Cole.
If you’re right, we’re dealing with a gross violation of professional ethics.
What do we do? Keep watching for now.
Document everything.
I need irrefutable proof before I can make any official accusations.
In the medical office, Phoebe and Alex were still sitting side by side, deep in conversation.
Phoebe, Alex said.
Can I ask you for one more favor? What is it? She asked, ready for anything.
I’ve been having trouble sleeping, nightmares, anxiety.
Could you prescribe something mild just so I can sleep peacefully? Phoebe hesitated.
Prescribing sleeping pills to an inmate without serious medical grounds was a violation of protocol.
What kind of trouble? She asked in a professional tone.
I wake up every night in a cold sweat, Alex said convincingly.
Dr.eams about the past, about the family that turned their back on me.
Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy.
Compassion won out over caution.
I’ll write you a prescription for a mild sleeping pill, but only for a week, and you must take it exactly as directed.
Thank you.
Alex squeezed her hand.
You’re saving my life, Phoebe wrote the prescription, knowing she was taking another step down a slippery slope.
But the look of gratitude in Alex’s eyes was worth any risk.
There’s something else, Alex said, lowering his voice to a whisper.
I need your home phone number.
What? Phoebe flinched.
Not for calls, he explained quickly.
Just so I know I have a connection to the outside world, to you.
Sometimes at night I get so lonely.
Alex, that’s impossible.
If someone finds out, no one will find out.
I’ll just memorize the number for my own peace of mind.
Against her better judgment, Phoebe scribbled her home number on a piece of paper and handed it to him.
Alex immediately put the note in his mouth and swallowed it.
“Now it’s only in my memory,” he said with a smile.
At that moment, the door burst open and Officer Cole entered.
Consultation time is over,” he said coldly, studying their faces closely.
Alex stood up calmly, hiding the box of chocolates under his shirt.
“Thanks for the treatment, Dr. Mitchell.
I feel much better.
” After they left, Phoebe remained alone, realizing the magnitude of what had just happened.
She had given the prisoner her phone number, prescribed him medication without a medical prescription, and brought him forbidden gifts.
Any one of these actions could have cost her her career.
But when she thought of Alex’s face, his grateful smile, all her doubts faded away.
For the first time in many years, she felt needed, wanted, alive.
That evening at home, Phoebe sat in her kitchen with a glass of wine, thinking about what had happened.
The phone rang around 10:00.
An unfamiliar number appeared on the display.
“Hello,” she answered cautiously.
Phoebe, it’s Alex.
Her heartbeat faster.
How are you calling? From where? One of the inmates has a contraband phone.
I asked him to let me use it for 5 minutes.
Alex’s voice sounded warm and intimate.
I needed to hear your voice.
Alex, this is crazy.
If you get caught, it was worth the risk.
Phoebe, I can’t pretend anymore.
I’m in love with you.
The words she had longed to hear finally came out.
Me, too, she whispered.
I’m in love, too.
Then help me.
Alex’s voice became more insistent.
I can’t spend another 2 years in this cell knowing you’re waiting for me outside.
What do you mean? There are ways to speed up my release.
Medical grounds, early release on health grounds.
Phoebe felt a chill.
Alex, I can’t think about it.
He interrupted.
We could be together.
Really together.
Isn’t it worth the risk? The line went dead, leaving Phoebe with the phone in her hand and a storm of thoughts in her head.
The next morning, Officer Cole was waiting for her at the prison entrance.
“Dr. Mitchell, Sergeant Davis wants to see you,” he said in an official tone.
“Now, what’s it about?” “He’ll explain.
” Phoebe walked into the sergeant’s office with a heavy heart.
Davis sat at his desk with a stern expression.
“Sit down, doctor,” he said.
We need to talk about your relationship with inmate Ross.
Phoe’s heart sank.
What exactly do you mean? I have reports of inappropriate behavior.
Too many consultations, personal gifts, physical contact.
Davis watched her reaction closely.
These are serious allegations, Dr. Mitchell.
Phoebe tried to remain calm.
Sergeant inmate Ross is a difficult case.
A transgender patient requires special attention and support.
Special attention, yes, but not a romantic relationship.
I don’t know what you’re talking about, Davis opened the folder and took out several photos.
Surveillance camera images showing them in intimate poses holding hands.
Explain this to me, he said, placing the photos on the table.
Phoebe felt the world crumble around her.
This can be explained.
I’m all ears.
The inmate is going through an emotional crisis.
Sometimes physical contact is part of the therapeutic process and the candy.
Is that part of the therapy too? Phoebe realized she was cornered.
Sergeant, I Dr. Mitchell, Davis interrupted.
I am temporarily suspending you from working with inmate Ross until a full investigation has been conducted.
Any further contact with him is strictly prohibited.
As she left the sergeant’s office, Phoebe felt devastated.
Her secret was out.
Her career was in jeopardy and she faced the prospect of never seeing Alex again.
That same evening, as soon as she got home, the doorbell rang.
Standing on the doorstep was Thomas, her ex-husband, with a grim expression on his face.
“We need to talk, Phoebe,” he said, entering the house without invitation.
“I’ve heard rumors about your job, about your relationship with an inmate.
” “Who told you?” she asked wearily.
In a town like Alliance, news travels fast.
You realize this could ruin not only your career, but my reputation.
Your reputation? Phoebe felt a surge of anger.
Thomas, you left me 2 years ago.
But I still carry the Mitchell name.
My clients, my business, all of it will suffer if it comes out that my ex-wife had an affair with a criminal.
Get out of my house, Phoebe said quietly.
I’m trying to help you, Thomas insisted.
Stop this madness before it’s too late.
Hand in your resignation.
Move to another city.
Start over.
I said, “Get out.
” Thomas headed for the door, but turned back at the threshold.
Phoebe, if you don’t stop, I’ll be forced to take action.
I have connections, influence.
I won’t let you disgrace our name.
After he left, Phoebe sat down on the sofa, realizing she was trapped.
The investigation in prison, her ex-husband’s threats, social pressure, it was all closing in on her.
But when she closed her eyes, she saw Alex’s face, his warm smile, his words of love, and she realized that she was willing to sacrifice everything for those feelings.
A week passed in agonizing anticipation.
Phoebe formally continued to work in the prison, but she was forbidden from having any contact with Alex.
She only saw him briefly during her rounds in other blocks, and each moment tore her heart apart.
Alex always caught her gaze and nodded slightly as if to say, “Wait, everything will be fine soon.
” On Friday morning, Phoebe received official notification of a disciplinary hearing scheduled for the following Monday.
The prison administration was going to decide her fate.
She knew her career was hanging by a thread, but the thought of losing Alex frightened her more than losing her job.
Around noon, as Phoebe sat in her office reviewing other patients files, the door opened quietly.
She looked up and froze.
Alex was standing in the doorway.
“How did you get in here?” she whispered, looking around for a guard.
“Coh’s out for lunch,” Alex said, quickly closing the door behind him.
“We have a few minutes.
” He walked over to her and Phoebe threw herself into his arms.
They hugged tightly and she felt all the tension of the past week leave her body.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered into his shoulder.
Me too, he replied, stroking her hair.
This week has been hell, but now I’m here.
They pulled apart and Phoebe saw a new determination in his eyes that made her wary.
Alex, you shouldn’t have come.
If we get caught, Phoebe, he interrupted, taking her hands.
We need to talk.
Seriously, talk.
Something in his tone made her cringe.
About what? About our future? About what we’re going to do? What do you mean? Alex let go of her hands and began pacing the office like a caged animal.
Phoebe, they’ll never leave us alone.
The investigation, the hearing, that’s just the beginning.
Even if you don’t get fired, they’ll never let us be alone again.
Maybe it’s for the best, she said quietly.
Maybe we should wait until you’re out.
Alex spun around to face her.
Wait 2 years, Phoebe.
By then it’ll be over.
They’ll make you move.
Change jobs.
I’ll be transferred to another prison.
We’ll lose each other forever.
She saw the panic in his eyes and felt her own fear rising.
Then what do you suggest? There is a way out, he said, moving closer.
You can help me get out of here, Alex.
Listen to me, he insisted.
You have access to medical supplies.
We can fake a serious illness, a heart attack, an allergic reaction.
They’ll take me to the hospital and there this is crazy, Phoebe interrupted.
I can’t do this.
It’s not just unethical.
It’s a crime.
What have we been doing until now? Alex snapped.
Wasn’t our relationship a crime from the start.
That’s different.
Those were feelings, and this is This is feelings, too, he shouted, then lowered his voice, remembering the need for silence.
Phoebe, I love you more than life itself, and I know you love me.
Isn’t love worth the risk? Phoebe felt her world crumbling.
I can’t, Alex.
I can’t help you escape.
His expression changed.
The warmth and tenderness disappeared, replaced by cold fury.
“Can’t or won’t.
” “It’s the same thing.
No, it’s not the same thing,” he grabbed her by the shoulders.
“You’re just a coward.
You’re afraid of losing your precious reputation, your safe life.
” “Alex, you’re hurting me,” Phoebe said, trying to free herself from his grip.
But he wouldn’t let go.
“You know what? Maybe I was wrong about you.
Maybe you’re just like everyone else, willing to play at love as long as it’s convenient.
But when it comes to real sacrifice, that’s not true.
Then prove it.
His fingers dug into her shoulders harder.
Help me get out of here now.
Today, Alex, stop.
You’re scaring me.
Something in her voice, perhaps genuine fear, made him loosen his grip.
He took a step back, breathing heavily.
I’m sorry, he said, running his hand through his hair.
I didn’t mean to.
I’m just so desperate.
Phoebe rubbed her aching shoulders, watching him with new understanding.
For the first time, she saw not the sensitive, traumatized man she had fallen in love with, but something darker and more dangerous.
Alex, she said cautiously, what would have happened if I had agreed? What would have happened then? His eyes lit up with hope.
We would have disappeared, gone far away from here, started a new life.
I know places where no one will find us.
What if we got caught? We won’t get caught.
I’ve thought it all through.
But if they did, she insisted.
What would happen to me? Alex was silent.
And in that silence, Phoebe read his answer.
She would face charges of aiding and abetting, imprisonment, the complete destruction of her life.
You would have abandoned me, she said quietly.
If we were caught, you would have said that I forced you, that I was just a tool.
No, he protested.
I would never.
Alex, Phoebe interrupted him.
Tell me the truth.
How many were there before me? What do you mean? Other lonely women, other doctors, nurses, social workers? How many did you seduce? His face became stony.
You don’t understand what you’re saying.
I do.
For the first time in a long time, I see clearly.
She moved toward the door, instinctively, looking for a way to retreat.
It was a game from the start, wasn’t it? You studied my weaknesses, said exactly what I wanted to hear.
Phoebe, stop.
A lonely divorced woman, desperate to feel needed, special, an easy target.
Shut up, Alex barked, his mask finally slipping.
Yes, it started as a game.
But then I really did.
Damn it.
It didn’t matter what I felt.
So, it was all a lie.
Not all of it, but what matters is that I’m getting out of here with or without your help.
What does that mean? Alex moved closer to her and Phoebe saw something in his eyes that made her blood run cold.
It means you have a choice.
Either you help me willingly or I’ll make you.
How? How do you think? He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.
The love notes you wrote me.
photos of our dates, recordings of our phone conversations.
Phoebe felt the ground slip away beneath her feet.
You don’t have recordings of our conversations.
My cellmate has not only a phone, but also a voice recorder, a very handy thing.
Alex smiled coldly.
You know what will happen when all this gets to the prosecutor? Charges of sexual assault by a correctional officer, abuse of authority, corruption.
You wouldn’t dare.
I dare.
And you know what’s funny? I won’t get anything for it.
At most, I’ll be transferred to another prison, and you’ll get 5 to seven years in the same system you worked in.
Phoebe leaned against the door, feeling her legs buckle.
Why? Why are you doing this? Because I can.
Because you let me.
He took another step closer.
But maybe it’s not too late to fix things.
Help me get out of here, and all this material will disappear.
And if I refuse, then by Monday, the prosecutor will have a complete file on Dr. Phoebe Mitchell and her perverted relationship with an inmate.
Phoebe looked at him, finally seeing his true face.
“Not a vulnerable young man seeking understanding, but a cold-blooded manipulator willing to destroy her for his own gain.
” “You’re a monster,” she whispered.
“I’m a survivor,” he replied.
“And now I’ll survive at your expense if I have to.
” At that moment, something inside Phoebe broke.
Years of suppressed pain, disappointment, and loneliness burst forth in a flood of rage.
“No,” she said quietly but firmly.
“I won’t do it.
” “What?” I said, “No.
Do whatever you want.
Hand over your files to the prosecutor.
I won’t help you escape.
” Alex’s face contorted with rage.
“You don’t understand what you’re saying.
I’ll destroy you.
Your life will be over.
” “Maybe,” Phoebe agreed.
But at least I’ll have what’s left of my self-respect.
Self-respect? He laughed bitterly.
You have no self-respect.
You’re a pathetic, lonely woman who fell in love with the first man who paid attention to you.
His words hit home, but Phoebe didn’t flinch.
Maybe, but I’m not a criminal, and I won’t become one.
Alex stood there breathing heavily, his hands clenched into fists.
You’ll regret this.
I already do.
I regret ever meeting you.
She turned toward the door, intending to leave, but Alex grabbed her wrist.
“No one leaves me,” he hissed.
“No one.
Let me go.
” Instead of answering, he squeezed her hand tighter, turning her toward him.
His eyes danced with madness.
“You know what, doctor? Since it’s all over anyway, let’s end this beautifully.
” “What are you talking about?” Without answering, Alex pulled her toward the medicine cabinet.
Phoebe tried to resist, but he was stronger.
“Alex, stop! What are you doing?” He opened the cabinet with one hand, holding her with the other, and took out a vial of medicine.
“Potassium chloride,” he said almost cheerfully.
“You know what it does when injected intravenously, don’t you?” Phoebe froze.
“Potassium chloride in large doses caused cardiac arrest.
” “Alex, don’t.
Don’t worry.
It’ll be quick.
Cardiac arrest looks like natural causes.
You have blood pressure problems, don’t you? He dragged her to the medical couch and Phoebe realized she was fighting for her life.
She tried to scream, but Alex covered her mouth with his hand.
“Quiet! Quiet!” he whispered as if calming a child.
“This is your fault.
If you had agreed to help,” Phoebe bit his hand as hard as she could.
Alex cried out in pain and pulled his hand away, and she tried to break free, but he grabbed her again, this time by the throat.
A he hissed.
You’re only making this harder.
His fingers tightened around her neck, cutting off her air supply.
Phoebe scratched at his hands, trying to free herself, but her strength was leaving her.
“Don’t fight it,” Alex whispered, his face contorted with rage and some kind of twisted pleasure.
“Just a little more,” Phoebe felt her consciousness slipping away.
In her last seconds, she saw his face above her, the face of the man she loved.
trusted and who was now killing her.
Her last thought was one of surprise.
Surprise at how easily love could turn into death.
Alex continued to squeeze her throat long after she stopped moving.
When he finally let go, Phoebe Mitchell was dead.
He stood over her body for several minutes, breathing heavily.
Then, as if waking from a trance, he began to act.
He carefully moved the body to the couch, arranging it in a natural position.
He wiped his fingerprints off the ampule and put it back in the cabinet.
When Officer Cole returned from lunch 20 minutes later, he found Alex in his cell calmly reading a book.
“Where have you been for the last half hour?” Cole asked suspiciously.
“Here,” Alex replied without looking up from his book.
“Ask Jones.
He can confirm it.
” Alex’s cellmate, Mike Jones, nodded.
“Yes, he was here the whole time.
We were talking about the book.
” Cole checked the medical unit and found that Dr. Mitchell was not answering her calls.
When he entered her office, he found her lying unconscious on the couch.
“Medical assistance to the doctor’s office,” he shouted into the radio.
“Dr. Mitchell is unconscious, but it was too late.
” The medics who arrived pronounced her dead from cardiac arrest.
The preliminary cause of death was acute heart failure due to stress.
No one thought to connect the doctor’s death to the inmate, who, according to witnesses, had been in his cell the whole time.
Detective Mark Harrison arrived at the Alliance Correctional Facility an hour after Dr. Mitchell’s body was discovered.
At 45, he was an experienced investigator who, in 20 years of police service, had learned not to trust obvious conclusions.
The death of a relatively young woman from a heart attack in prison raised questions for him.
Tell me everything from the beginning,” he said to Sergeant Davis as he examined the medical office.
Dr. Mitchell was found by Officer Cole around 1.
She was lying on the couch unconscious.
Paramedics tried to revive her, but it was too late.
Harrison studied the scene carefully.
The office looked tidy with no signs of a struggle.
Where was Officer Cole before he found the body? on his lunch break from noon until 1.
So the doctor was alone for an hour and a half.
Formally, yes, but she had no scheduled appointments with inmates.
Harrison nodded, taking notes.
I hear you recently had an investigation into Dr. Mitchell.
Davis’s face darkened.
Yes.
Suspicion of an unethical relationship with an inmate, Alex Ross.
Tell me more.
Davis outlined all the known facts.
Frequent consultations, gifts, physical contact, a planned disciplinary hearing.
Harrison listened intently, his experienced mind already piecing together possible connections.
Where is Ross now? In his cell.
Officer Cole checked.
He’s been there since lunchtime.
I want to talk to him.
Alex was brought into the interrogation room 20 minutes later.
He looked shaken and upset.
the perfect act for a man who had just lost his beloved.
“I’m very sorry to hear about Dr. Mitchell,” Harrison began.
“I understand you had a special relationship,” Alex’s eyes filled with tears.
“She was a wonderful person, the only one who saw me as a person, not just a criminal.
When was the last time you spoke to her? A week ago.
” After the investigation started, we were forbidden to see each other.
Alex wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
I knew she was having a hard time.
I felt guilty.
Guilty of what? For putting her in danger.
Our relationship was inappropriate, I know, but we couldn’t control our feelings.
Harrison studied him closely.
Alex was playing the role of the griefstricken lover masterfully, but something about his behavior alarmed the detective.
Where were you today between noon and 1:30? In my cell, reading a book Dr. Mitchell gave me talking to my cellmate.
Can Mike Jones confirm that? Sure.
We were discussing a book on trauma psychology.
After the interrogation, Harrison spoke with Jones, who confirmed Alex’s alibi.
The detective then met with Officer Cole.
Tell me about your suspicions regarding Dr. Mitchell, Harrison requested.
Cole described his observations from the past few weeks in detail.
Detective, I’m convinced there was more than just a professional relationship between them.
Too many oddities such as daily consultations without medical indication, gifts, physical contact, and today Cole fell silent.
What about today? When I left for lunch, I had a strange feeling like something was going to happen.
Maybe I should have stayed.
Harrison requested copies of all surveillance camera footage from the past month.
Reviewing it that evening at the station, he saw what confirmed Cole’s suspicions.
intimate poses, holding hands, lingering glances.
The next day, he returned to the prison with a search warrant for Alex’s cell.
The search turned up nothing.
No letters, gifts, or other physical evidence of a relationship with the doctor.
“Too clean,” Harrison muttered under his breath, as if someone had cleaned everything up beforehand.
“The breakthrough came when the detective decided to take a closer look at the medical records.
Alex’s file contained a note about a sleeping pill being prescribed without any serious medical indication.
Why would a doctor prescribe a sleeping pill to an inmate with no complaints of insomnia? Harrison wondered.
He requested Dr. Mitchell’s phone records and discovered several calls from unknown numbers in the evening.
After checking the numbers, he found that they belonged to contraband phones confiscated in various correctional facilities.
The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.
Harrison decided to conduct a second, more aggressive interview with Alex.
Mr. Ross, I need to ask you a few more questions.
Of course, detective.
Anything you need.
Tell me about the sleeping pills Dr. Mitchell prescribed for you.
For the first time, Alex’s eyes flashed with uncertainty.
I’ve had trouble sleeping, nightmares, but there are no complaints of insomnia in your medical records prior to your appointment with Dr. Mitchell.
I didn’t want to complain.
I don’t like to appear weak.
What about phone calls? Did you call the doctor at home? Alex paused too long.
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
We have records of calls from contraband phones to Dr. Mitchell’s home number.
There are inmates in prison who are willing to testify that they saw you using those phones.
It was a bluff.
Harrison didn’t have any such witnesses, but he watched Alex’s expression change.
Detective, even if that’s true, what does it have to do with the doctor’s death? Maybe nothing.
Maybe everything.
Harrison left Alex to ponder his words and went to talk to other inmates.
Eventually, he found what he was looking for.
A cellmate from Alex’s previous prison, who was willing to talk about Alex’s methods.
He told me about his strategy, said the inmate, Rico Vasquez.
He would find lonely women among the staff, doctors, nurses, social workers.
He would charm them, get them to break the rules.
What did he get in return? Privileges, medication, money sometimes.
And in one case, he almost managed to organize an escape.
An escape? Yes.
A nurse was supposed to help him stage a medical emergency, but at the last minute, she got scared and backed out.
What happened to her? Vasquez shrugged.
A week later, she was found dead in her car.
Dr.ug overdose.
strange because she never used drugs.
Harrison felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
When was that? Two years ago in an Ohio state prison.
The detective immediately contacted his colleagues in the other state.
It turned out that the nurse’s death had indeed been investigated as suspicious, but there wasn’t enough evidence.
Alex had an alibi for that time as well.
Armed with new information, Harrison returned to Alex.
Tell me about nurse Jennifer Collins, he said without preamble.
Alex’s face turned to stone.
I don’t know anyone by that name.
She worked at the Ohio State Prison.
She died under mysterious circumstances after refusing to help you escape.
You’re delusional, detective.
And Dr. Mitchell, did she also refuse to help you? Alex remained silent, but Harrison saw a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
“Here’s what I think,” the detective continued.
“You asked Dr. Mitchell to help you escape.
She refused.
You went to her office this afternoon when the guard went to lunch.
You tried to force her.
When that didn’t work, you killed her.
” “Prove it,” Alex said quietly.
“I’ll work on it.
” Harrison knew he had no direct evidence, but he knew Alex was guilty.
Now he had to find a way to prove it.
The breakthrough came unexpectedly.
The medical examiner who performed Dr. Mitchell’s autopsy discovered faint bruises on her neck that matched fingerprints.
She was strangled.
The expert reported cardiac arrest is a result of strangulation, not the cause of death.
In addition, pieces of skin were found under the victim’s fingernails, not her own.
DNA analysis matched Alex Ross.
When Detective Harrison presented him with this evidence, Alex’s mask finally slipped.
“So what?” he said with a cold smile.
She got what she deserved.
A pathetic, desperate woman willing to break every rule for a crumb of attention.
“Will you confess to the murder?” I admit that I rid the world of another weak, worthless individual.
She thought love was something sacred.
I showed her the truth.
Love is just a tool to get what you want.
Harrison felt disgust looking at this man.
What about the other women, Jennifer Collins? Alex shrugged.
Well, now you have a reason to investigate.
Good luck finding evidence.
Alex Ross’ trial took place 6 months later.
The evidence was irrefutable.
DNA under the victim’s fingernails, fingerprints on her neck, testimony about previous manipulations.
The jury returned a verdict of guilty on all counts.
As the sentence was read, life imprisonment without the possibility of parole.
Alex remained cold and calm.
The only emotion he showed was a slight smile when he heard the words without the possibility of parole.
After the trial, Detective Harrison met with Thomas Mitchell, the victim’s ex-husband.
“Thank you,” Thomas said, “for getting justice.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Harrison replied.
I know divorce doesn’t mean the end of feelings.
Thomas nodded.
Phoebe was a good person.
She deserved a better ending.
What about the doctor’s reputation? The media wrote a lot about your relationship.
Let them write, Thomas said wearily.
The truth is she was a victim just like all the other women he used.
Officer Jess Cole was promoted after the investigation.
His vigilance had helped solve the crime, but he never stopped blaming himself.
If I hadn’t gone to lunch, he told his colleagues, she might still be alive.
Sergeant Davis was also tormented by guilt.
We knew something was wrong.
We should have acted faster.
New security protocols were introduced at the correctional facility, including increased surveillance of staff interactions with inmates, mandatory psychological evaluations, and strict rules regarding medical consultations.
Detective Harrison continued to investigate other cases linked to Alex Ross.
Over the next year, he linked him to three suspicious deaths of female employees at various correctional facilities.
But in all cases, there was insufficient evidence to press charges.
Alex Ross spent the rest of his life in a maximum security cell.
Unable to manipulate new victims, he died in prison 20 years later of cancer, showing no remorse for his crimes.
The story of Dr. Phoebe Mitchell became a cautionary tale in medical circles about how loneliness and vulnerability can make a person a victim of a coldblooded predator.
Her name is engraved on a memorial plaque at the Alliance Medical Institute, reminding future doctors of the importance of professional boundaries, but those who knew her personally remembered Phoebe not as a victim, but as a compassionate doctor who wanted to help and was punished in the most cruel way for it.
In the small town of Alliance, life went on.
But the story of Dr. Mitchell and prisoner Ross became part of local legend, a grim reminder that evil can lurk behind even the most charming masks.
Disclaimer : This content may be created by AI for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.
