That Tuesday afternoon had begun like any other.
But by the time the hospital’s fluorescent lights flickered above her head while she walked down the hall toward the administrative offices—a place she rarely visited and never liked—the familiar environment already felt subtly different, as though something in the air had shifted without warning.
Inside the office sat Cynthia Vale, a woman whose tailored blazer looked expensive enough to make Maggie instinctively uncomfortable.
A folder lay open on the table.
That detail alone told Maggie everything she needed to know.
Cynthia didn’t waste time with small talk.