Philip
In the quiet embrace of the Henderson night, nestled amidst the desert's whispers, lies the serene sanctuary of the Henderson Memorial Clinic. Bathed in the gentle glow of moonlight, its modern façade exudes a tranquil aura, inviting those needing healing to find solace within its walls.
I'm trailing behind the two bodyguards as we walk down the hallway toward the ward where Nurse Samantha Hayes is assigned. She's the same nurse assigned to the OB-Gyne department when my mother brought Sarah last year while in Highland Hills.
"Excuse me, we're looking for Nurse Samantha Hayes," one of my bodyguards addressed the nurse at the station.
The nurse eyed us with suspicion, likely due to our imposing presence. "May I inquire as to who they are?" she questioned, her tone wary.
With a
