Machine sounds were the only music she heard. She could feel her chest had been cut into. She felt it. She could make out the yellow roses on her bedside but could not take in their scent. But she saw them breathe through the wrapping.
‘Its time for your meds’, Nurse Mpho interrupted.
She was making a count of how may times the machine beeped and at what breath she took in and out. So she looked away.
‘Dr Tlhare, you have to let me take care of you’, she softly said. ‘You just had a major heart surgery. You need the meds’.
‘I know that and I do not need the meds’, she barked at the nurse.
Once the door closed, she tried to recall how she became a patient not the Dr. All she could remember was being in court and then collapsing.
‘Can I come in? Theetso opened the door.
He was trying not to make his client worried. But as her lawyer he had to make her aware of everything.
‘We are in deep trouble now Maria. Your shooter has been identified’, he sieved through his files.
‘I was shot? By who? He’s dead’, Maria hysterically panicked in realization.
‘Hey come down’, rubbing his hands over her shoulder. ‘Mmatli Thornton is the suspect’.
‘His son? How?’, Maria was completely shocked.
‘He is being taken into custody. In fact he gave himself up for the police.’
Theetso gave her a file on Mmatli. The first thing a doctor does is identify the age of the patient. So she did, naturally. The year in which he was born gave her goosebumps.
‘Don’t worry. He will be imprisoned and we will finish with this case. This will all blow away.’ Theetso leaned in to kiss Maria.
At Tlharelamosu Police Station, there were cameras everywhere. It wasn’t everyday where a criminal brought himself forward. Journalists were trying to get in to get first hand information.
Detective Nnete, a well built man with a beard that covered most of his face entered the interrogation room.
‘Son? We don’t want this to take long. Make it snappy!’, he bellowed.
‘It was a mistake. Shooting her at her heart. Is she alive? Mmatli worryingly asked. There were tears in his eyes. Nnete assumed like all other suspects, he was faking it.
‘So you meant to shoot her where?’, Nnete’s face became clear as he came close to Mmatli’s face.
‘It was the only way to make sure my mother knew me’, Mmatli’s face had no remorse.
‘Your mother? Your file says your adopted mother died a year ago in a car crash.’
‘Yes my adoptive mother died. I meant my biological mother.’
‘You are going to have to be more clear son’.
‘Dr Maria Tlhare is my mother!, his scream was heard throughout the floor.
In that time journalist were flocking to the interrogation room to take pictures of the confession.
Maria had had a long day. There were no magazines or newspapers to read and she could not even read her chart. The remote was there. The TV was on. So she switched to the news channel.
Downstairs Theetso angrily opened the hospital door. He had just heard the news.
‘Excuse me Sir! Visiting hours are over!’, the security guard tried to restrain Theetso.
Bursting into Maria’s room, he got in just in time for the news. Catching his breath, he tried to speak. But the news were ahead if him.
‘Making headlines, the prime suspect of Dr Maria Tlhare’s shooting is no other than her son, Matli Thornton.’, the news reader went on.
‘You had a son? With him? Maria is that why you killed him?’, Theetso went on his knees.
Maria could not make out the situation. But earlier when she read through the file, she had suspicions. But how do you tell your lawyer who is also your lover that you had a son with the man you murdered?