Elena reached across the counter gate and took the tarnished brass key from Julian’s fingers as he backed over the yellow bio-line.
Down the dim corridor between Room 410 and Room 412, the frosted glass of the wall-mounted X-ray viewbox was already fading back to dark grey. The three numbers carved into the interior frost -- 4 - 1 - 4 -- dissolved into thin trails of formalin vapor.
“Step inside the staff alcove,” Elena whispered, her voice low and urgent. “Keep both feet behind the yellow paint. Station sanctuary extends four feet into the locker bank.”
Julian stepped through the low oak gate and let the brass latch click shut behind him.
The shift clock above the telemetry wall clicked to 12:38 AM.
The staff locker alcove was a narrow recess carved into the concrete wall directly behind Nurse Station 4B. A single wire-caged utility bulb lit the tight space in warm amber. It smelled of old floor wax, powdered latex gloves, and the rich, roasted aroma of chicory and dark coffee beans.
Julian’s heavy stainless-steel Stanley thermos sat on the small wooden break table. He had filled the vacuum bottle with fresh black coffee at Starlight Mart #04 before Mac drove them through the hospital gates.
