Supreme Authority

Chapter 20

When they entered the private room, the air was heavy with sweat and fear.

The old man lay on the bed, pale and shaking, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His eyes rolled back as if something unseen had its claws in him, tearing from within.

Beside him, a young girl shot up from her chair. Barely nineteen, her face was streaked with tears, her eyes swollen and red. “S-sis!” she cried, rushing straight into Cassandra’s arms.

“Candice.” Cassandra’s voice broke as she pulled her close, cupping her trembling face. “Tell me. What happened?”

“He just collapsed,” Candice stammered, her lips quivering.

“He said his chest hurt—then his legs, then everywhere. They’ve been testing him all night, but nothing—nothing—makes sense!” More tears fell, clinging to her lashes like broken glass.

She whirled toward the doctors, her voice sharp as a blade. “What is happening to him? Why does my grandfather look like this?!”

An older doctor stepped forward, adjusting his glasses with a shaking hand.

“Miss Dupont… we’ve run every test. The scans are clean. Blood work is normal. His organs are functioning. Medically speaking—he shouldn’t be in this much pain.”

Cassandra’s eyes burned. “Not in pain?” Her voice cracked with fury. “Look at him! Look at him and tell me he’s not in agony!”

The doctor winced but forced himself on. “We understand your frustration. But the truth is… we don’t know. His entire body registers pain, yet there are no wounds, no infection, no disease markers. Every result comes back clear.”

One of the younger doctors spoke up quietly, avoiding her gaze. “We… we administered morphine. It had no effect. None of the sedatives worked either.”

Her glare could have cut steel. “Are you telling me that the best doctors in this city can’t explain why my grandfather is being torn apart from the inside?”

The group exchanged troubled glances, their silence damning. Finally, another tried to placate her. “We’ll continue testing. Some conditions are rare, difficult to detect. It may take a day or two—”

“A day or two?!” Cassandra’s voice thundered, trembling with fury. “He doesn’t have a day! Can you not hear him groaning? What good are any of you if you can’t even explain this?”

The room froze under her fury. Only the old man’s guttural, broken gasps filled the silence.

At the back, Alex stood with arms crossed, his face a mask of stone. He hadn’t spoken since they entered, only watching.

Cassandra turned on him suddenly, desperation lacing her voice. “Alex… say something. You know what this is, don’t you?”

Every eye swung toward him. He stepped forward, unbothered by their stares. His voice was flat, cold, certain. “Your grandfather is not sick.”

The doctors bristled, brows tightening. One of them snapped, “Excuse me? We are trained professionals. If you believe you know better—”

“I do.” Alex cut in, sharp as a blade. His gaze never wavered from the old man.

Cassandra’s heart hammered in her chest. “Then what is it, Alex?”

His eyes narrowed, the weight of his words dropping like a hammer. “Your grandfather has been cursed.”

The room froze solid.

“Cursed?” one doctor repeated, his voice sharp with indignation.

“Mr. Dupont is a respected man. And this is a hospital, not a circus. Who are you to bring such madness into this room?”

The older doctor let out a sharp scoff, his voice bristling with contempt.

“I’ve worked in this hospital for twenty years. I’ve seen diseases so rare they had no names, symptoms that defied reason, cases no textbook could explain. But never—never—have I called it a curse.”

His gaze locked on Alex, burning with disdain. “You insult our profession.”

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, her tone like ice. “Watch your mouth.”

Before the tension could snap, a younger female doctor by the monitors spoke, her voice steadier but edged with resolve.

“Miss Cassandra, with all due respect, we cannot allow our work to be undermined. We rely on evidence, not superstition. To call this a curse—how is that medicine?”

Two other doctors shifted uneasily, exchanging nervous looks. They didn’t like Alex’s words, but neither dared openly challenge Cassandra.

Alex didn’t flinch. His voice was calm, almost too calm. “I said what I said. Run your tests for days if you want. You’ll find nothing.”

The older doctor slammed a file down on the counter, the sound cracking through the room.

“Invisible pain has names in medicine. Psychosomatic disorders. Fibromyalgia. Neuropathy. We don’t throw up our hands and call it a curse like frightened children telling ghost stories in the dark.”

Candice suddenly broke, her voice rising with raw anguish. She turned to Cassandra, her eyes wide, wet with desperation.

“Cassandra, why—why would you bring him here?” Her voice cracked. “Grandpa is worse than ever, and you let some stranger walk into his room and call it a curse?”

“Candice—” Cassandra started, but her sister cut her off with a scream.

“No! This isn’t some game!” Candice’s cheeks flushed red, her body trembling. Her fists clenched her dress as if holding herself together.

“Do you really think a man like him can do what trained doctors cannot? This is insane, Cassandra! Who is he? Why would you even trust him?!”

Cassandra’s expression stayed firm, though her voice softened, steady as steel. “He’s not just anyone, Candice. Grandfather knew him. He is… a healer.”

A ripple went through the room. A few doctors looked startled, others exchanged looks of disbelief.

The older doctor shook his head in disgust. “A healer? Miss Dupont, this is dangerous territory. Medicine is not magic. We cannot—and will not—allow superstition to dictate care in this hospital.”

Candice clung to her sister’s arm, her voice breaking. “Cassandra… please. Don’t do this. You’re gambling with Grandpa’s life.”

But Cassandra’s eyes never left Alex. Her voice was unshakable. “I don’t gamble, Candice. I’ve seen what he can do. If you can’t trust him, then trust me.”

She wanted to ask Alex why he had called it a curse, why he spoke with such certainty. But she had seen enough—things she couldn’t explain, things that erased doubt.

The younger male doctor, silent until now, finally spoke, his words careful and professional.

“Miss Cassandra, if you wish us to continue care, then we must proceed with facts. If this man interferes, we cannot be held responsible. Medicine is not guesswork. And curses…”

 His eyes flicked to Alex, cold and sharp. “Curses are not diagnoses.”