The ophthalmology department of Sacred Heart Hospital was on the seventh floor.
Pale gray carpets muffled footsteps. Abstract paintings lined the walls, likely meant to ease anxiety.
The disinfectant scent was faint, tempered by an artificial floral undertone. It was not harsh, but felt unnaturally forced. Avery disliked it. Too deliberate. A transparent effort to mask the building's identity as a hospital.
Helen Vance's office was on the right. Avery knocked.
"Come in."
Helen was younger than expected. Early forties, neat short hair. She glanced at Avery, then her gaze drifted to Dominic.
"Sit."
Dominic sat. Avery stood beside him, one hand on the back of his chair.
"Remove your glasses."
He hesitated, then obeyed. His eyes lay exposed under the harsh clinical light. The swelling
