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We all sighed in relief when we came out of the corn on the other side of the fields. Acres of rolling grassy fields lay between us and our destination, a large, squarish brick building. It didn’t look particularly inviting, but it also wasn’t a dump. The grounds went from mowed grass to lightly tended flower beds with benches and tables interspersed. A wide concrete path wound through the gardens and led back to the building. Trees provided shade, but the broad expanse of grass would make it hard to sneak up to the care facility. Hopefully, sneaking wouldn’t be necessary.
Robby pulled into a parking area, and we got out. Even Nic. He winced at the bright sun, but didn’t complain. Robby led the way, Nic took my hand, and Geraint trailed behind, watching our backs.
No one was outside, but I could imagine it might be lunch time for the residents. The light breeze and the relatively low humidity made it pleasant enough in the shade, so there had to be a reason everyone was inside.
Still creeped out, I followed Robby into the entryway. He held the door for all of us, then took the lead up to the receptionist’s desk. It was cool inside, heavily air-conditioned. The woman behind the desk appeared normal enough, large glasses perched on a pert nose. She had a friendly smile on her face, and a sweater to ward off the chill from the AC.
The rest of the entry into the facility was a bit more intimidating. The door behind her opened with a keypad and all the glass looked heavy, like it might be bullet proof. The décor was spare, but appeared comfortable. All in all, very contradictory.
“How can I help you?” the woman asked once we stood in front of the desk.
“My name is Robby McClain. I called ahead. We have an appointment to meet with Dio.”
“Ahh, you’re the folks who think you might know him.” She sounded a tad suspicious.
“Yes, dear Dio. We went to high school together and only recently learned of his disability and presence here. We weren’t especially close, but we were friends and thought we should stop in and check on him.”
The last bit smoothed the worry lines from the woman’s forehead. Close friends would probably have been suspicious after all this time.
“I should warn you, he’s not coherent most of the time. The doctors can’t find anything wrong with him.”
“Thank you, Ms.”—Robby peered at her nametag—“Peterson. Very helpful.” He turned up the charm, and she smiled in return.
“Samantha is coming up to get you. Due to the nature of his residency here, it has to be a supervised visit.”
“Not a problem,” Robby assured her.
Moments later, the secure door clicked open, and a young woman came out that I could only describe as wholesome. She had brown her hair cut in a bob and wore a soft, neutral-toned sweater and skirt with leggings underneath. Even her smile was relaxing.
Except I was still on edge from the strange cornfield, and I fought against the peace she exuded, determined to stay alert for danger.
I glanced at Nic, and he squeezed my fingers, but the skin at the corners of his eyes creased and his gaze shifted from spot to spot, never resting. He felt as uneasy as I did. Geraint put his hand on my shoulder for a moment before moving between me and the entry door.
“Hello, Robby,” Samantha said, her voice cheerful. “And you’re Ember? And Nic and Geraint?” She mangled Geraint’s name, and he quietly corrected her. His Irish lilt and his captivating smile made her eyes light up.
“He does have a dangerously sexy smile,” Nic leaned over and whispered in my ear.
I glanced up at my prince and arched an eyebrow. He winked at me.
“It’s nice to meet you all. If you’ll follow me?”
We went through the security door. I flinched when it clicked shut behind me, feeling closed in, trapped. I pressed my free hand to my stomach.
“We can still get out,” Nic assured me in another quiet whisper.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm my racing heart. Being trapped had never been something that had worried me before. Freaking not-Baz.
The décor was simple. Nothing loose, but someone had painted pictures on the walls in the place of framed art. Quiet music filtered through the air, something soothing. It would have driven me nuts after a while, and I wondered if it was truly effective. I felt like I was in some sort of hotel. The doors were all heavy, locked, and numbered. Each one had a plastic wall file with colorful folders in them.
At the end of the hallway, we crowded into an elevator, and Samantha scanned a keycard, entered a code, and pushed four. Dio was on the top floor? The level of security seemed excessive for a place that wasn’t a hospital, but maybe I had misunderstood the type of facility this was.
Nic and Robby had nearly identical frowns on their faces, as if they concentrated hard and didn’t like what they sensed.
The elevator slowed, and a chime dinged as we reached the fourth floor. I wasn’t sure what I expected when the doors slid open, but I held my breath. The décor was the same and, though the hallways were straight, I felt like I could get lost in here. Especially since I couldn’t figure out the system behind the numbers on the doors. They seemed completely random. I wasn’t even convinced I was actually on the fourth floor because some of the numbers started with three or two and nothing was sequential.
Samantha led us about halfway down the corridor and scanned her keycard before knocking on the door and pushing it open.
“Dio,” she called as she entered the room.
