A man who looks in his early thirties walks through the ICU doors and into the waiting room. He's dressed in a black suit with a gray shirt. Both his head and face are smooth and clean shaven.
The man approaches Mike, and then both men walk out of ear range to talk. I look up at Alexandre and narrow my eyes.
"Who is that man?" I ask, pointing.
"He is part of the security detail."
"Was he with my grandmother?"
"Yes, Julia, he was charged with her protection."
Taking in a deep breath, I pivot on the balls of my feet. Then I stroll over to where Mike and the man are talking.
Both men fall silent when I walk up. I level my shoulders and peer at the bald man, looking him in the eye.
"You were with my grandmother, right?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Yes," he replies, his voice void of emotio
