Chương 5
The memory arrived without permission.
I pushed it away.
Five minutes passed.
Then seven.
At nine, I called Luke.
He didn’t answer.
At ten, the front door opened.
Luke appeared with a woman in pink slippers.
She was gesturing rapidly toward the second floor.
Then Luke looked at the SUV and pointed.
The woman followed him down.
She approached my window.
I lowered it.
“You Mr. Russo?”
Her eyes took in the chair, the vehicle, the driver, then returned to my face.
“Yes.”
“I’m Maribel.”
She folded her arms against the cold.
“I live across from Emma.”
“Have you seen her today?”
“Not today.”
“Did you knock?”
“I knocked after your friend came.”
Luke appeared behind her.
“No answer.”
Maribel frowned.
“She has her mother’s place on Wednesdays.”
“It’s Thursday,” Luke said.
“I know what day it is.”
She gave him an irritated look.
“She goes whenever they call her.”
“What place?”
I already knew.
The memory-care facility.
“What’s it called?”
Maribel hesitated.
Her eyes narrowed.
“How exactly do you know Emma?”
I could have lied.
Luke looked almost eager to hear what I would choose.
“She worked for me.”
“Worked?”
“I fired her.”
Maribel’s eyebrows rose.
“Then why are you outside her apartment?”
A reasonable question.
I disliked it immediately.
“She missed another job.”
“So?”
“So that’s unusual.”
Maribel studied me for a long moment.
“She talked about you.”
Something unpleasant moved in my stomach.
“What did she say?”
“That you’re mean.”
Luke coughed into his fist.
Maribel continued.
“And lonely.”
The word was worse.
“I don’t care what she said.”
“Then why ask?”
Luke turned away to hide a smile.
I considered running him over.
Maribel looked back toward the building.
“She told me yesterday she got fired.”
“Did she say where she was going after?”
“She said she had to figure things out.”
“That could mean anything.”
“Yes.”
Her expression changed.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“She said her mother called her by her name yesterday.”
I stared at her.
“Is that unusual?”
Maribel nodded.
“Her mom hasn’t known who she is most days for almost a year.”
Luke and I exchanged a look.
“What facility?” I asked again.
This time Maribel gave us the name.
The place was twenty minutes west.
I told the driver to go.
Luke climbed back into the SUV.
“You know we could just call.”
“Call.”
He did.
The first person transferred him.
The second cited privacy.
The third asked whether he was family.
Luke looked at me.
“No.”
The call ended.
“Helpful.”
“They’re doing their job.”
“I didn’t say they weren’t.”
“You looked like you wanted to buy the building.”
“I still might.”
He laughed softly.
I turned toward the window.
The facility sat behind a shopping center in a low beige building with flower boxes beneath the windows.
The automatic entrance was accessible.
That irritated me too, because I had no excuse to remain in the car.
Luke unlocked my chair.
“You sure?”
“Don’t start.”
The ramp lowered.
Cold air reached my face.
For the first time in months, my wheels touched a public sidewalk.
A woman pushing an elderly man in a transport chair moved around me without recognition.
Nobody stared.
Nobody cared.
The world failed to pause for Daniel Russo.
Inside, the lobby smelled like coffee, disinfectant, and something sweet from the dining room.
A television played a game show at low volume.
An elderly woman sat near the entrance folding the same napkin repeatedly.
At reception, Luke gave Emma’s name.
The receptionist typed.
“I can’t confirm residents or visitors without authorization.”
“We’re not asking for medical information,” Luke said.
“I understand.”
“We just need to know if she’s here.”
“I still can’t confirm that.”
I rolled closer.
“My employee may be in trouble.”
The receptionist looked at me.
“Then you can call the police for a welfare check.”
“I don’t need the police.”
“Then I’m not sure what else I can do.”
There was no fear in her voice.
Only policy.
I found myself almost respecting it.
Luke leaned toward me.
“We should leave.”
Then a woman in navy scrubs came through a secured door carrying a plastic bin.
She stopped when she saw us.
“Mr. Russo?”
I turned.
She looked familiar, though I couldn’t place her.
“Have we met?”
“No.”
Her expression tightened.
“I’m Nina Patel.”
She shifted the bin against her hip.
“I know Emma.”
“Is she here?”
The receptionist opened her mouth.
Nina answered first.
“She was.”
The word changed the room.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“What happened?”
Nina glanced toward the receptionist.
“I’m on break.”
“Then take it.”
She looked at me sharply.
Luke muttered, “Danny.”
I forced my voice lower.
“Please.”
That word felt rusted.
Nina led us toward a quieter corner near vending machines.
“She came around nine.”
“Why?”
“Her mother had an episode.”
“What kind?”
“Agitation.”
Nina watched my face carefully.
“She kept asking for Emma.”
“So Emma came.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“She stayed most of the night.”
Relief came first.
Then irritation at myself for feeling it.
“Where is she now?”
“She left around five.”
“Her diner shift started at six.”
Nina nodded.
“She said she was going there.”
“She never arrived.”
Now Nina looked worried.
“Did you call her?”
“Several times.”
She pulled out her phone.
Her call went directly to voicemail too.
“Her battery could be dead.”
Luke said it, but none of us seemed convinced.
Nina looked toward the secured hallway.
“There’s something else.”
I waited.
“Emma wasn’t feeling well.”
“What does that mean?”
“She was pale.”
“She’s always pale.”
“She vomited twice.”
My hands tightened on the wheel rims.
“Did anyone check her?”
“I tried.”
“And?”
“She refused.”
Of course she did.
Nina lowered her voice.
“She said she couldn’t afford an ER bill.”
Luke rubbed his jaw.
“What did you think was wrong?”
“I’m not going to diagnose her standing beside a vending machine.”
“Fine.”
I looked toward the entrance.
“What route would she take from here to the diner?”
Nina frowned.
May you like
“I don’t know.”
Luke already had his phone out.
