The hallway outside the morgue was as cold and still as metal.
Ethan pushed open the door, holding a freshly printed fax. The paper was still slightly warm and the ink smelled fresh. However, his expression was grim and his shoulders were more tense than usual, as if he feared someone would blame him for his earlier oversight.
“Victor, this is the information the hospital just sent over.”
Victor took the paper, but didn’t rush to look at it. Instead, he raised his hand and patted Ethan on the shoulder.
“Relax,” he said. 'I’ve already spoken to them in advance. This won't get out. Everyone makes mistakes, especially when dealing with a case as complicated as this one. Learn from this and just don’t let it happen again.”
Ethan visibly relaxed.
He’d been worried that Victor would dwell
