Page 38 of Unbreakable Vow

The receptionist, an older woman wearing a brown blazer with a name tag pinned on at an angle, tries to stop me but a simple glance her way and she smiles and waves.

I know where Cora is.

Her mother, Marion Christenson, is a patient here on the fifth floor. The elevator is cramped and there’s a dent in the elevator door. Like it’s been kicked from the inside.

Metal grates as the doors slide open for me and I step out of the death box into the most obnoxious fluorescent lighting I’ve encountered.

“I’m looking for my wife. She’s visiting her mother. Marion Christenson.” I interrupt two nurses at the first station I come to.

The older of the two turns to me, ready to argue, I’m sure with being interrupted, but as soon as she looks at me, she snaps her mouth shut.

“I didn’t know Cora was married.” The second nurse gets up from her rolling chair. Her name tag reads Samantha. She has soft red hair pulled up into a high ponytail that swishes when she walks around her counterpart and out of the station.

“I’ll show you. I was just going to do a check on Marion,” she says, stepping in front of me.

My shoes click along the linoleum flooring of the hallway as she takes me down the corridor. One of the doors to a room is open, and when I peek inside, I find an elderly man standing naked in front of the television.

“Mrs. Clevendale, you shouldn’t be here.” Samantha hurries to an elderly woman shuffling her way down the hall toward us. “How did you get down here?” She stops the older woman while grabbing the little walkie-talkie she has hooked to the elastic of her pants.

“Marion’s room is the third door on the left.” She gestures for me to go ahead while she deals with the lost woman.

“This is Samantha on fifth. Mrs. Clevendale has found her way down here again. Will you send someone down to get her?” I overhear her on the walkie while she escorts the woman back to the nurse’s station.

The irritation I harbored over the damage to my car has been replaced with blood-boiling anger at how inept this facility seems to be in taking care of its patients. How can an elderly woman who is clearly confused be able to sneak away from her floor without anyone taking notice?

When I reach the third door, I find it slightly ajar.

“You’d think I was crazy if you knew what was going on right now.” Cora’s voice carries.

There’s no response.

I push the door open more and find her sitting in a recliner rocking gently beside a bed where her mom sleeps.

Cora must sense me, because she jerks her head up and sees me.

“Sergei.” She jumps to her feet. Looking down at her mom then me, she gives me a pleading look. I don’t know all of her little mannerisms yet, but I know that expression. She doesn’t want me to wake her mother.

I give a short nod and step inside, shutting the door quietly behind me.

“How’d you find me?” she asks softly, walking around the bed. She meets me in the living area of the room.

The place is set up like a mini apartment. There’s a TV area with a writing desk and a small round table where I assume she eats her meals. A full bath is also attached to the room. It’s the tiniest apartment I’ve ever seen.

Paint is chipping on the door to the bathroom. And the decades-old wallpaper is peeling at the seams.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t have my car tracked?” I ask in a low voice, not wanting to wake her mom. “Or you?”

She frowns. “You have a tracker on me?”

“Your phone,” I answer. “You have a tendency to take off when you’re not supposed to.”

“I had to.” She folds her arms over her stomach. “She needed me.” She looks back at her mom.

There’s a bandage on her mom’s forehead I didn’t see right away. It’s covered slightly by a curl of her short gray hair.

“Is she alright?” I ask, moving closer to the bed.

“She fell. They had to put stitches in, and she hates the doctors. She fights them.” She takes a long breath. “I needed to get here so I could sit with her. She’s calmer when I’m here.”