I walked into the Maryville District Hospital and went to the front counter. It wasn’t a big hospital, but it had recently had some money spent on a makeover, and the reception area smelt strongly of fresh paint.
“Hi.” I smiled at the receptionist, a small dark haired girl with braces. Her name badge said Kelli.
Eyes widened in shock, she took in my blood soaked appearance and scarred face. But wanting to act like a professional, she smiled back uneasily and looked at the clock on the wall. It read 9.50 pm.
“Can I help you?” she asked cautiously.
“I’m looking for Andrea Cutler; she was brought in a couple of hours ago. She might be in ICU.”
“She’s in surgery now.”
Kelli didn’t need to check her notes. The hospital probably hadn’t seen this much excitement in one night. Both father an
