Chapter 812 Who’s Pulling the Strings

• This morning when she walked into the hospital, she still remembered the layout and all those familiar sights.
• “We’ve combed through every system—paper files and electronic records. There’s no record of you. Are you sure you didn’t mix up the hospital? Fairlake has a few with similar names…” Lisa sounded like she had a reasonable doubt.
• “No. I remember it clearly. Third floor, Neurological Ward. Bed by the window. An old oak tree outside. The nurses’ station faces the vending machines. Every morning at eight, a cleaning lady wheels a disinfecting cart past…”