The Memory Painter

Barbara and Linz glanced at each other. Barbara gave the nurse a smile. “Thank you. You just saved me a trip back tomorrow.”


She put on her badge and led Linz to the elevators. They stepped in and waited until the doors shut before they said anything to one another. Barbara physically sagged when she spoke. “I could lose my license for this, or worse. This better be my son.”

Linz wasn’t about to admit that their whole rescue attempt was based on a gut feeling.

The elevator doors opened. Barbara nodded for Linz to wait by an assortment of chairs and sofas that served as a lounge. The hallway was a long row of windowless doors, each equipped with a serious-looking keypad and a small surveillance monitor that allowed visitors to see inside the room.