I Made Him See Ghosts / Chapter 5: The Power of Letting Go
I Made Him See Ghosts

I Made Him See Ghosts

Author: Mary Armstrong

Chapter 5: The Power of Letting Go

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The company’s funding came through. I had Mark sign a power of attorney, making me the company’s top executive.

He barely registered what he was signing. I took the pen from his limp hand, satisfaction flooding me.

I announced to the company that President Mark was unwell and needed rest—all future business would be handled by me.

The board approved without question. Mark was forgotten in a matter of days.

I brought Emily in as my assistant.

She was efficient, loyal, and fiercely protective. Together, we rebuilt the company from the ground up.

The other women got compensation, and those who were suitable were given jobs.

I made sure they were cared for, given a fresh start. It was the least I could do.

As for Mark, he was doing well in the psychiatric hospital.

He had a private room, the best doctors, and round-the-clock care. He barely remembered his own name.

He had food, drink, caretakers, and TV.

He spent his days watching cartoons, oblivious to the world outside.

They said he was recovering well.

I felt a strange relief, knowing he was finally out of my life for good.

I told Emily, "Mark seems to be getting better."

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. I smiled, knowing the truth.

Emily finished her paperwork. "Then we should go visit."

We dressed in white, tying red scrunchies in our hair. The nurses stared, but said nothing.

We went to the hospital. Mark sat in a wheelchair, rubbing his crotch, looking almost normal.

He looked up as we entered, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Then he saw Emily.

I asked the doctor, "How’s his recovery?"

He flipped through the chart, frowning. "Physically, it’s unlikely he’ll ever have a sex life again. Mentally, he’s a bit better—less irritable."

When he saw me, he got up excitedly, wanting to hug me.

He shuffled forward, arms outstretched, a hopeful smile on his lips.

But as soon as he saw Emily behind me, he dove under the bed, pounding his head and screaming, "Ghosts! Ghosts!"

The orderlies rushed in, pinned him down, and gave him a sedative.

He went limp, eyes rolling back. I watched, unmoved.

The doctor said, "Strange—he was improving, but now he’s like this again."

He shook his head, baffled. I shrugged, feigning concern.

I smiled at Emily. "It’s fine, doctor. We’ll visit often."

Emily squeezed my hand, a small smile on her lips. Justice, at last.

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