AS THE CLOCK struck at midnight, Ciaran stepped out of the black car. In his right ear, an earpiece was plugged in while two men in dark coats followed him silently as he entered the mental facility. As they passed the entrance, the glass door opened automatically, and no one dared to stop him.
Ciaran was wearing casual clothes—a black shirt, a leather jacket, long pants, and sneakers. His cap was covering his face, and no one could tell that it was Ciaran Vireaux.
Habang naglakakad sila sa hallway, agad na umiiwas sa kanila ang mga staff na makakasalubong nila. Marahil ay na-intimidate ang mga ito sa presensiya ni Ciaran at ng dalawang bodyguard nito.
Sa dulo ng hallway, naghihintay roon ang director ng mental facility.
Ciaran didn’t even bother to show his face and didn’t bother
