Elena POV
The care facility was on the quiet edge of the city, the kind of building designed to be forgotten by everyone who wasn't required to know it existed. I stood outside it for almost ten minutes before I made myself walk through the doors.
"Cruz," the woman at the front desk said, checking her records. "You're listed as next of kin. That's unusual—we don't get many visitors for him."
"I didn't know I still was," I said. "Listed, I mean."
"Nobody updated it." She handed me a visitor badge. "Room fourteen. He doesn't always respond to conversation. I should prepare you for that."
"I've heard."
The hallway was filled with the scent of antiseptic, mingled with an underlying odor that felt stale, a distinct aroma of a place where time seemed to flow differently than it did outside. I located room fourteen and lingered in the doorway for a long moment before forcing myself to step inside.
