Richard turned again, slower this time, his eyes scanning every face in the room, searching for something he couldn’t quite name but could feel. “Who was the last person to handle his feeding tube?” he asked, his tone measured, but beneath it, something dangerous was beginning to rise.

A nurse hesitated, glancing toward another colleague, then back at Richard, clearly unsure whether to speak or remain silent.

“We rotate shifts,” she said finally, her voice careful, “but the last recorded check was about forty minutes ago.”

“By who?”

A pause. A silence.

“By Nurse Elena.”

The name hung in the air, and for a brief moment, nothing happened, as if the room itself was holding its breath.

Then the younger doctor frowned slightly. “Elena signed out early today,” he said slowly, as if piecing it together in real time.

“She said she wasn’t feeling well.”

Richard’s expression darkened, not dramatically, but enough to shift the atmosphere again into something sharper, more focused, more controlled.

“Where is she now?” No one knew.

Leo shifted his weight, his mind turning over everything he had seen since walking into the hospital, every detail, every movement, every face.

He remembered something small and insignificant.

But his grandfather’s voice returned again, louder this time, clearer, as if guiding him through the noise.

Look closely. Leo took a step forward.

“I saw her,” he said quietly.

Several heads turned toward him again, surprise flickering across faces that had already dismissed him once before.

Richard looked at him directly, this time without hesitation.

“Where?”

Leo pointed toward the hallway behind him, toward the elevators that led down to the lower floors.

“She was rushing,” he said, trying to recall every detail exactly as it had happened.

“She bumped into me near the stairs. She dropped something.”

Leo hesitated, his fingers tightening again, because now what he said mattered in a way he didn’t fully understand.

“A small case,” he answered, “like the ones doctors carry tools in.”

The younger doctor’s eyes widened slightly.

“That’s not standard for her shift,” he muttered.

Richard didn’t wait.

“Find her,” he said sharply to security, his voice now fully commanding, leaving no room for delay or doubt.

Two guards immediately moved, their earlier dismissiveness toward Leo completely gone, replaced by urgency.

The room shifted once more, this time into motion driven by something far more serious than a medical emergency.

Isabelle looked at him stepping back again, really looked at him for the first time, her expression softening in a way that hadn’t been there before.

“You saw all of that?” she asked gently, her voice quieter now, stripped of the sharpness from earlier.

Leo nodded.

“I just remember things,” he said simply. Because for him, remembering wasn’t a skill.

It was survival.

Minutes passed, but they felt longer, stretched thin by tension that no one could escape.

Then the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway. Security returned with the nurse Elena standing between them. She avoided everyone’s eyes in the room.

Richard stepped forward slowly, every movement controlled, every breath deliberate, as if he was holding himself together by sheer will.

“Where were you going?” he asked, his tone calm, but beneath it, something sharp waited.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” Elena repeated, the same explanation, but now it sounded thinner, weaker, less convincing.

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