7
The waiting room at Kemiston Memorial Hospital was surprisingly empty.
A giant Christmas tree with white lights stood in the center of the lobby, almost tall enough to touch the clerestory windows that let in cloudy morning light.
The place smelled like antiseptic.
I hated hospitals.
A nurse passed by, pushing a man in a wheelchair. Both the nurse and the man had face masks on. The man coughed.
After they passed, I coughed.
I felt myself getting sick with whatever that guy had.
Immediately, I wanted to leave.
My Nana always said, if you want to get sick, go to a hospital.
So I stayed away from them.
I doused my hands in hand sanitizer from a nearby station. Rubbing my hands, I jogged to keep up with Darius and Allegra, who were leaning on the reception desk.
The receptionist,
