Confused, I quickly jump up from my seat and rush to the door. I swing it open and look out into the corridor.
That wasn't Noah. It was Clara, who now turns to face me.
"Is everything okay?" she asks, furrowing her brow.
"Um... I thought... well..." Heavens, it's really time for me to get a grip. "Where is my patient?" I say, and I'm a little proud of myself.
Her shrug doesn't bode well. "Noah didn't show up for his appointment."
He's not here?
Suddenly, the nervous tension that has consumed me all day leaves my body. "Why?"
For a moment, she looks at me as if I've lost my mind. "Not every redhead is a clairvoyant witch."
Very funny, but I'm not in the mood to laugh at her joke right now. I shift my weight from one leg to the other. Even though he wasn't thrilled about the blood test, I wouldn't have expected him to miss his appointment.
Noah could have serious health problems, and as his doctor, it is my duty to help him. Even if he were the most unattractive man in the world, and even if I couldn't imagine anything less appealing than snuggling up against his broad chest, I wouldn't accept that.
"Should I call him?" Clara asks, but I can barely hear her.
With a determined gesture, I signal that I'll handle it myself. "How many patients are still waiting?"
She takes a few steps toward the reception area and peeks into the waiting room. "Two."
"Do you think Helene can handle it alone?" That would be good. Because the doctor in me needs to confront someone now.
Lost in thought, Clara twirls the ends of her long braid. "I better ask her."
"Do that. And tell her I'll borrow the car." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I rush back into the treatment room. There, I exchange my coat for my jacket, grab my medical bag, and then I'm already on my way. If he thinks he can easily shake me off, he's gravely mistaken.
I enter Noah's address into my phone since my boss's old station wagon doesn't have a navigation system. The indicated point is in the middle of the forest.
"It will work out," I tell myself with a shrug. After all, I also found Hanna's guesthouse that way.
It's hard for me to adhere to the speed limit in the village. As soon as I pass the outskirts, I press on the gas pedal.
With every yard I cover, my anger grows. Because it becomes increasingly clear to me how careless Noah is with himself. When I treated his wound, he just wanted to get away quickly. He was willing to risk infection rather than seek treatment. And it's undeniable that he has other health problems that he refuses to take seriously.
It's as if he doesn't care about himself. As if he's indifferent to what happens to him.
"What's wrong with you?" I murmur absentmindedly as meadows and forests rush by.
"In two hundred yards, turn left," instructs the male voice of my navigation system.
I slow down but can't for the life of me see where a road would branch off here. Only at the last moment do I spot the path, consisting only of deep ruts in the forest floor and some gravel.
The navigation instructs me to follow the path for two miles.
Frowning, I make the turn and bump along the trail. This feels a bit like the oversized vibrating plate in Vienna's Prater amusement park. The forest around me becomes denser, and the sun peeks through the treetops.
It's fitting for Noah to live in the middle of nowhere. He probably dwells as a recluse in a weathered cabin with moss-covered roof tiles.
"You have reached your destination," my phone announces.
I turn off the engine and look around. "There's nothing here, Mr. Smarty Pants."
Just trees as far as the eye can see. The forest floor is covered in brown needles, occasional clusters of moss, and a few low-growing plants that resemble liverworts. Something glistens between the tree trunks. It's not a cabin, but I still leave the car and walk in that direction.