Daryl came down off the stage in long strides, his face dark with fury.
He grabbed my wrist, gripping hard.
The pull dragged me forward a couple of stumbling steps.
"Come outside with me!"
He walked ahead of me.
Imogen stood on the stage, microphone in hand, her voice thick with tears as she called out.
"Captain Delgado, Director Simmons is just upset with me. Don't be angry at her. This is all my fault, I never should have gone up there."
Down in the seats, the officials and colleagues started to whisper and point.
Daryl leaned close to me, dropping his voice, warning me through clenched teeth.
"Clementine Simmons, are you done making a scene? I'm taking you out here to save you some face!"
"You throw your fits at home, fine, I let it slide."
"Every official in the city is here today, and you have to embarrass me right now, is that it?"
He thought I'd swallow it the way I always had, biting my tongue to protect his face.
I looked at that arrogant, cold face of his, raised my right hand, and swung it down hard.
Crack!
A ringing slap landed across Daryl's cheek.
Everyone froze. Even the whispering died out completely.
Up on the stage, Imogen shrieked in fright.
The blow snapped Daryl's head to the side, a red handprint rising fast on his cheek.
He whipped his face back around and glared at me.
"Clementine Simmons, have you lost your mind?"
I pulled out a tissue, wiped my hand, and tossed it into the trash can beside me.
"Weren't you ashamed of me?" I looked at him. "Well, now there's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Daryl, if you want to know what got into me, go home and look at the coffee table."
I didn't spare him another glance. I turned and walked out the main door.
Behind me the chatter erupted all at once.
But I didn't care anymore.
Out of the conference room, cold wind hit my face, and instead I felt clearer than I ever had.
I pushed into my office and started clearing out my personal things.
Once I'd packed up my belongings, I carried a bag toward the stairwell.
I had just pushed the fire door open a crack.
Voices drifted up from below.
Daryl and Imogen.
Imogen was still sniffling.
"Captain Delgado, Director Simmons hit you in front of everyone. I dragged you into this."
"I was so nervous up on that stage. She pressed me with those questions and my mind just went blank."
"She must hate me now. How am I ever going to survive in the department?"
I stopped where I was.
Daryl reached out and patted her back, his tone gentle.
"Don't mind her. That's just how she is. She can't stand seeing anyone do better than her."
"Use the protocol, don't worry. If I say it's yours, it's yours."
Imogen sniffled. "But she did write it. What if she goes and checks?"
Daryl let out a cold laugh.
"She can't find a thing. Last night while she was doing rounds, I opened up her computer and took it."
"I wiped every file off her computer clean. There's no way she can prove any of it is hers."
Imogen's tears turned to a smile. "Captain Delgado, you're so good to me. If it weren't for you, I never would've made it past probation this time."
I stood outside the door, and all that was left in me was a cold contempt.
I lifted my foot and kicked.
The door slammed against the wall with a crash.
Both of them jumped, heads snapping up at the same time.
The moment Imogen saw it was me, she ducked behind Daryl.
Daryl's face darkened as he shielded her completely.
"You followed me?"
I came down the steps, watching him with a cold eye.
"Daryl, you broke into my computer in the middle of the night, stole my work, and handed it to someone else. And you call that taking it?"
Daryl stiffened his neck.
Not a flicker of guilt. If anything, he acted like he had every right.
"Clementine Simmons, we're married. What's yours is mine."
"Imogen just needs this one chance to prove herself so she can get made permanent. You're already a director. Can't you show a little generosity and make room for a newcomer?"
Imogen, eyes red, peeked out from behind Daryl.
"Director Simmons, I really need this job. I don't have a Captain Delgado to take care of me the way you do."
"If it'll make you feel better, I'll get down on my knees for you."
And with that she started to bend her knees, moving to kneel.
Daryl caught her fast and pulled her back, then rounded on me and roared, "Clementine Simmons! Don't push this too far! Are you only happy when you've driven someone into a corner? This ends here. You'd better keep your mouth shut and not make me lose my temper."
I nodded.
Good.
I slid my hand into my pocket and touched my phone.
"Daryl, you two really are a perfect match." I smiled.
Daryl's brow knotted. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." I turned around. "I wish you a long and happy life together."
"Clementine Simmons, what are you trying to do!" Daryl was raging behind me.
I ignored him and left, going straight to the hospital's security room.
I pulled up the hallway footage from last night, from when Daryl broke into my office.
I bundled the surveillance video together with the recording I'd just made and hit send.
Recipients: the Health Board's Disciplinary Committee, the Hospital Oversight Office, the City Rescue Command Conduct Office.
Back in the locker room, I took off the city hospital white coat I'd worn for seven years.
I laid it neatly on the table, the director's badge from my chest set on top of it.
I picked up my bag and walked out the hospital doors.
Three in the afternoon.
I stood at the airport security checkpoint.
On the big board, the flight number to the Zaire border blinked.
The phone in my pocket suddenly started buzzing like mad.
The screen lit up. It was Daryl calling.
Three days. He'd finally gone home and seen the signed divorce papers on the coffee table.
I hit decline.
I slid out the SIM card, snapped it in two, and dropped it in the trash can beside me.
I turned, pushing my suitcase.
And without a single backward glance, I boarded that flight to Zaire.
