Once again you sat in your car, pressing your forehead against the steering wheel. Unable to get your heavy legs to move. You loved your job, you really did. Caring for fluffies wasn’t nearly as bad as you initially thought, and even though you planned on using this as a stepping stone to get into human medicine you were going to miss working with the little fuzzballs when the day came.
What you saw in the psych wing, however, made you wish you could just run home and never return.
Shoving yourself back from the steering wheel you groaned. No more time to wait. You could see another resident entering the building from across the parking lot and if you waited too much longer you might run into someone on the way in. The thought of carrying a conversation right now made your stomach churn.
You left your car and started your usual morning routine. Cross the parking lot. Look at your happy, naive face on the scanner screen. Enter the building. Put your things away in your locker. Wait for the elevator.
You signed up for medicine. You signed papers declaring your ethics and oaths, policies and procedures meant to keep both yourself and your patients happy and healthy. What was happening in the psychiatric wing violated all of those. Behind the glossy sheen of lavender and lullabies was a hellscape of results over reason. How could you feel good about what happened there? How could anyone? The doctors claimed over and over that the things done to the fluffies was for their own good. That they needed to be “fixed”, for themselves, for their owners, for the betterment of fluffykind. Frankly, it felt like a crock of shit. A power play, maybe, but not medicine.
“Mary! Wait up!!” Romero’s voice snapped you from your thoughts.
“Oh, hey.” You pulled your lips against their will into a smile. “How’s it been?”
“It’s been alright, are you okay?” He asked, looking worried.
“I’m fine. Just tired. Davis has me working long hours.” Couldn’t the elevator move faster? It seemed like it knew that you didn’t want to be having this talk and was taking its time on each floor above you.
“I just haven’t seen you in forever and when I do you look… sad. Did something happen?”
“No… nothing. It’s fine.” You stared at the display, the numbers slowly ticking down.
“Mary, please.” He took your hand firmly. “I’m your friend. Something is going on, I know it.”
“Romero, It’s nothing-”
“It’s clearly not nothing. Nothing ever bothers you, you never look like this. Angry, frustrated, bored, yeah. That’s the Mary I know.” He pulled on your wrist gently as the elevator dinged. “This is different. Something is bothering you.”
The doors slid open, revealing what was thankfully an empty elevator. You turned to him, his eyes pleading with yours.
“Alright. I’ll… meet you after work. By my car.”
“Thank you. I’ll be there.” He let you pull your hand free and enter the elevator.
“Later.” You gave him a more sincere smile as the doors closed behind you. Alone with just your thoughts and the tinny music of the elevator you wondered if there maybe was someone you could trust here. Romero was a good friend of yours, and he really did seem to love fluffies. He told you when you first met that he was hoping to move to a better apartment so he could have one of his own. He would never agree to the treatment these fluffies faced, and might be a solid ally to your cause.
As the doors opened again you could faintly smell lavender in the air, leaking into the hallway. You readied yourself as you scanned in, prepared to pretend nothing was wrong. At leas in the ER you could express how unhappy you were. Here it might blow your cover, make it clear that you were never who they thought you were.
“Morning Mary!” Davis called as you entered. You gave him a wave as he came up the hall. “You ready to do some proper treatment?”
“I’ve been looking forward to it!” You lied.
“Great!” He gave you a wide smile and held out a yellow folder. “I need a baseline of Primrose’s mental state, I got everything set up for you though. Take her back to room twenty-eight and record her answering the questions on the sheet. After that its normal duties.”
“…Alright.” You took the folder from him and marched yourself down to Primrose’s room. Asking questions wasn’t so bad, honestly. You really expected worse.
“Good morning Primrose!” You called, flipping on the lights.
“Mhm… Guud mownin…” The green unicorn stirred as you set up the travel cart.
“We’re going to do some fun stuff before breakfast today, okay?” You unlatched the kennel door as she rose from the blankets.
“Otay.” She lifted her hooves to be picked up and let you place her on the soft pad of the travel cart. The sides lifted up and latched in place much like a baby’s crib, keeping her from jumping out.
“Keep your hooves on the pad, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Otay nice wady!”
You started down the hall, keeping a steady but quick pace when you realized that Primrose didn’t use your name. She knew it, she always called you “Mawy”. She hadn’t called you “Nice Wady” since you first started caring for her. Odd.
You pressed your badge against the scanner, looking at the little red lock bearing the number five. Another upgrade, a much larger one now. You had no idea what was unlocked for you now, you’d never seen a security label higher than a two.
“Nu wike dis pwace…” Primrose mumbled as you pushed her down the silent hall.
“I know, It’s pretty scary isn’t it. We’ll be back to your room real quick.” You opened the door marked with the twenty-eight and pushed her into it.
It was about the size of the room you saw Alder in, and you were trying not to think about that. There was a very similar small table in the room, but one unstained by any bodily fluids as far as you could tell. Rather than walls of torture tools there was a small digital camera on a tripod in front of the table.
You unlatched the safety gates on the cart and carried Primrose to the table. “Alright, sit right here. I’m going to ask you some questions, okay?”
“Wha’ nice wady wan know?”
You pressed record on the camera, checking the viewfinder to be sure that she was centered in the shot. Her pink mane was growing back in, still somewhat patchy where the scars on her neck prevented growth. Otherwise she was almost fully healed and putting on weight nicely. Flipping open the folder you started down the list of questions.
“What’s your name?”
“Namesie am Pwimwose!”
“Good. What color are you?”
She glanced down at her hooves briefly. “Pwimwose am gween!”
“Mh-hm. And who is-” You paused, reading the question. “… Who is Flutter?”
Primrose frowned, her brow furrowing. “Uhm… Pwimwose nu knu… am fwend?”
“That’s… alright. We can go onto the next one.” She had spent weeks talking about Flutter non-stop and suddenly she didn’t know. “Do you know where you are?”
“Am in hospitaw?”
“That’s right. And where were you before you were here?”
“Uhm…” Primrose nervously rubbed her hooves against each other. “Pwimwose am… awways at hospitaw?”
“…Sure. One more.” You squinted at the sheet, wondering what the doctors were thinking with these questions. “Do you want babies?”
“Hmmm… nu wan.” She said firmly.
“… Not at all?”
“Nu.” She shook her head, nose in the air.
“Okay…” You clicked off the camera, staring at her. Every fluffy was nuts for babies, even the males. You remembered Davis saying that he wanted to “revolutionize the spaying process”, is this what he meant?
“Pwimwose du bad?” She bounced her back hoof nervously
“No, no. You did really good. Let’s… get you back to your room for a treat.”
“Can hab sketti??”
“Maybe, I’ll ask the doctors about it.” You picked her up and put her back into the carrying cart. “Um, Primrose… Who am i?”
“Yu am a nice wady!” She happily put her hooves up on the sides of the cart.
“Yes, but what’s my name?”
Primrose stared at you, squinting for a long moment. You could see her searching for something, her eyes darting around you.
“Pwimwose nu knu, nice wady.”
“She didn’t remember you at all?” Romero leaned on the center console of your car while you watched the sun set in the rearview mirror.
“Nope. Just “Nice Wady”.
Romero sat back in the passenger seat heavily. “What do you think they did to her?”
“I have… some idea.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was… this smarty. Alder, I think his name was. I saw one of the doctors abuse him. Heavily. He was begging her to stop.”
“… and you reported it, right??” he asked.
“That’s the thing. They know about it.”
“And they’re just letting her abuse him?!” Romero’s hands curled into fists on the dashboard.
“They’re in on it. I think the others do it too.”
“… You’re fucking with me.”
Your fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Wish I was.”
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, letting the knowledge settle heavily between you like a thick fog.
“They just… told you about it? Like it was nothing?”
You sighed. “Here’s the real fucked part. They think I’m in on it.” Romero didn’t reply, instead giving you a pained look. “…What?”
“… Are you not?”
“What.”
He held his hands up. “Hey, I realize now I shouldn’t have assumed but… yeah, I heard that you were a secret abuser.”
“And you didn’t think to say anything to me?!” You snapped.
“What was I supposed to say?! ‘Hey Mary, heard you were beating the shit out of your old patients, how’s that going?’”
“Yeah, fair.” You slumped down in the seat. “So I’m part of a secret team of abusers because someone started messing with my old patients and now I have to play the part or I lose my job.”
“That sums it up pretty well.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping me feel better?” Before he could reply, your phone began to buzz in the center console. Picking it up you saw Victor’s name on the screen. “It’s… one of the doctors.”
“Answer it! On speaker, I wanna hear!!”
You shot him a dirty look. “Fine, stay quiet though.” You pressed accept and then quickly the speakerphone button. “Hello?”
“Hi Mary! You still nearby?”
“Uh, yeah actually, what’s up?”
“So I forgot that I have a training to give tomorrow at 7 am and I’m supposed to be covering for Walters tonight. Do you think you’d do a favor for me and take the shift? You’d be alone but I promise it won’t be bad.”
“Uh…” Next to you Romero was nodding frantically. “Yeah, sure. Give me just a minute and I’ll be back.”
“You’re a LIFESAVER Mary! I’ll get you some time off, I think I can swing two days if that works for you!”
“That’s very kind, I’ll see you soon.”
“Talk to you in a bit!” There was a click as the line went dead.
“Recon!” Romero said.
“Knock it off, this isn’t a spy movie.”
“It is now!” He leaned over the center console again. “You can do recon while you’re alone there!”
It did seem like a good idea, if a risky one. “So, what, I find evidence of them abusing fluffies and then…?”
“We go to the news!”
“If they’ll believe us.” You rested your head against the window. “If not we lose our jobs and reputations.”
Romero grabbed your hand. “What else can we do? We can’t just let this happen.”
You looked out across the parking lot, at the square building on the far side of it. It felt like it would be so much easier to turn the other way and just… ignore it. Go back to being the hospital’s Best and Brightest again. You felt like you could convince yourself it was for the best, that sometimes kindness didn’t work and results were worth what it took to get there. Maybe just drown your sorrows in whatever substances the paycheck afforded you until you managed to fall in step with the rest of the hospital.
“Mary. Look at me.” Romero was serious, his jaw set. “We have to do the right thing.”
You sighed heavily. “I know. I know. It’s just… hard.”
“The right thing is hard.”
“Yeah.” You sat up in the seat. “I’ll text you after my shift.”
“‘Kay. I can go talk to the fluffies you ‘abused’ tomorrow” He put air quotes and heavy emphasis on the word.
“You sure you want to get involved in this?”
“I can’t let you fight the good fight alone, can I?” He smiled at you, and you returned it sincerely for the first time in god knows how long.
“So we just need someone around in case anything goes wrong.” Victor explained as he hurriedly packed a briefcase. “Richard is allowed out of his kennel to watch TV as long as he’s quiet about it, but everyone else needs to be locked up.”
“Got it. Anything else I need to know?”
“Um…” He paused, thinking. “I don’t anticipate there being any issues but if there is you’ll need to log them. I don’t think Davis got you into the system yet, so I’ll leave you Walters’ login info. You’ll find incident reports and all that on there. Any emergencies please call me.” He quickly scribbled on a post-it note and stuck it to the monitor.
“I’m sure I can handle it.”
Victor put a firm hand on your shoulder, smiling warmly. “I really appreciate you coming in clutch here. Davis approved the next two days off for you as thanks.”
“I don’t mind at all. Have a good night!”
Victor waved over his shoulder as he left. You waited until you heard the door close behind him before starting on your rounds. You peeked into the regular rooms one by one, checking to be sure that any medical equipment was functioning correctly. Primrose slept soundly, kicking one tiny hoof as she dreamed. It was cute, and you hesitated in her room. She was a good fluffy, and in some way you felt guilty for delivering her to this place. You didn’t know what would happen to her, you were just doing what you were told. Not much of an excuse at this point, honestly. You smiled down at the sleeping green fluff. You could see Romero really liking her, they had a lot in common. Maybe after all this you could find a way to get her out.
Further down the hall you could hear sports announcers before you even got to the permanent resident’s room. The TV was bright and shining out into the hallway, and when you entered you could see Richard lounging on his tiny couch with the comically oversized remote resting under his arm.
“Hey Richard. Can’t sleep?”
He glanced at you over the back of the couch. “Nu, Ewwa nu shaddup. Whewe am Viktow?”
“He forgot he had a thing to do in the morning, so he can’t stay here tonight. What’s wrong with Ella?”
Richard shrugged. “Dunno. Nu am doktah.” He kicked his back hooves up on the tiny couch, returning to his football.
Ella made a low whining noise, and you peeked into her kennel. “What’s wrong? Something hurt?”
“Yus… huu… bewwy huwt…” She had her hooves splayed out in front of her, stomach resting on the softest of her blankets.
“Okay, I’ll be right back with something to help you sleep.” You opened up some of the upper cabinets in their room, looking through the various medications available until you found a mild sedative. You were instructed to avoid pain meds in this wing by Davis himself, some of the fluffies could have bad reactions to them apparently. It took a bit of searching before you found a half full bottle of something with Ella’s name on it and an attached oral syringe. You drew up the dosage noted on the bottle and opened up her kennel.
“Drink up.” She took the syringe and swallowed the medication, making a face at the bitter taste.
“I’ll be back in a little bit to check on you, but you’ll feel better in just a moment.” You patted her on the head and she leaned into your touch, giving you a pained smile. “Richard, if she doesn’t stop whining by halftime, come get me.”
“Buh nu wan miss show!”
“Do it or I’m taking the remote.”
“Fiiiine!” Richard grumbled. “Fukin’ bitch.”
“Good boy.” You heard him grumble about the praise but ignored it. “I’m leaving the door open, if you leave for any other reason I’ll have you neutered.” Not a power you had, but you heard a small gasp from him letting you know it hit the mark.
You left him to his game, having found an excuse to use Victor’s computer. You would have come up with one anyway, something on this floor would need to be documented. You just thought you’d have to fake a kennel breaking open or something.
You returned to Victor’s office and carefully entered, looking around as if you were admiring his decor. He had some nice art on the walls, abstract landscapes and nature scenes done mostly in watercolors. What you were really looking for was cameras as you admired the books on his shelf. You didn’t see anything, but you didn’t really know what you were looking for. You felt kinda silly expecting to find a blinking red light hidden behind one of the many figurines dotting the corners of the shelves and turned to the large desk. The dark of the office was cut only with the light of the screensaver, looping footage of idyllic pastures where sheep and cows grazed. The kind of thing you expected of Victor. You turned his chair around, surprised at how soft the leather padding was. There were many knick knacks on his desk, most fluffy themed. Colorful fluffy erasers stood next to the keyboard in a mock herd and stickers depicting fluffies eating various junk foods spread up one side of the monitor.
And then you saw it.
In the very center of the monitor frame was the glint of an in-built webcam. The small green light next to it glowing brightly. Recording. You let your eyes glaze past it, following the fluffies down the other side of the monitor.
“Cute.” You mumbled to yourself. You were being watched. You needed to act natural.
You pulled off the sticky note with Walters’ info on it and studied it for a moment. His info was very similar to yours, firstname.lastname for the user and a hard to remember password of jumbled numbers and letters. You knew that Romero had forgotten his twice in the first week and had to spend his already limited lunch getting it reset every time. With a casual motion you pressed the note against the top of the monitor, covering the camera and being careful not to look directly at it. You’re just putting it somewhere easier to see. That’s all. Nothing suspicious happening here.
The computer awoke with a tap of the mouse and you filled the info into the waiting boxes.
[WELCOME, MR. WALTERS.]
The computer loaded a very familiar medical records program. You’d dealt with this before, but never had full access to it like this. With a few clicks you were looking through the records, seeing name after name of fluffies.
“Hm…. Where is…” You tried to make the right confused noise, as if you were having trouble with the program.
You scrolled until you saw one you recognized, Alder. Clicking open the file you saw a video file along with a handful of documents. You clicked on the first one and after a moment of loading it opened.
[INTAKE 328863: ALDER]
Subject is a 2 year old male unicorn that answers to the name Alder. Subject is feral, head of a small herd found roaming Lafayette cemetery. Subject initially recommended for euthanization, later given over to the psychiatric department for study.
Subject’s family was taken in for use in testing, which includes his brother, mate, and four foals. Family is recommended for euthanization after testing.
…Yikes. You clicked off the sheet, looking at the video file. What kind of testing could he possibly be going through? You dug through your pockets for your shitty headphones and plugged them into the computer, happy that they managed to survive their trip through the washing machine.
[PROCEDURE 328863-1: ALDER]
The video opened with the green unicorn strapped down to a table, laying flat with his hooves splayed. He had a metal brace around his head you’d seen used in the OR to hold their heads still, usually to do surgery on the neck area.
In front of him under a bright surgical light was the white mare with a yellow mane from the pictures you saw. Snuggled up to her side were four foals, two blue, one yellow, and one a minty green. Behind her the brown fluffy pressed his hooves against the small gate holding them in place. You could see Alder struggling, and if you squinted you could just make out something wrapped around his muzzle. With fluffies already garbage night vision and Alder being such a dark color there was no way they could see him from the pen.
“Hello fluffies.” Dr. Jackson spoke, stepping into the frame. She set a fluffy carrier down next to the pen, the gate facing away from them.
“Uhm… Nice Wady wet Daffodiw an’ babbehs an’ Bawk gu nao?” The brown earthy asked.
“Oh, you don’t want to wait for your friend?” She said, back to them. You could hear the clink of the ceramic mug as she prepared her coffee.
“Awdew?!” Daffodil looked around. “Whewe am spechow fwend?!”
“Let me get him out for you.” Dr. Jackson turned and stepped back up to the spotlight. She set the carrier in the pen and opened the gate and a dark green unicorn with a pale purple mane stepped out. A near perfect match for Alder, but with her rear pointed directly at the camera you could see she was female. The pen fluffies seemed not to notice, instead embracing the strange mare happily. Alder struggled wildly as Dr. Jackson walked back over to him.
“Alder,” She called, picking up her coffee mug. The green mare’s eyes snapped to her. “Remember not to hurt your brother.”
The dark green mare shook Bark off roughly, sending him tumbling to the ground.
“Unf! Wai bwuddah gib-” He was cut off by a sickening crack as the false Alder slammed her hooves down on his head.
“No, Alder,” the doctor said, sipping her coffee calmly, “don’t break all his bones.”
While the white and yellow mare screamed, the green mare systematically stomped her way up Bark’s legs one by one. You could see him twitching, his mouth opening with every impact but if he was making any noise it was drowned out by his “mate’s” sobbing.
Finally Dr. Jackson firmly tapped her now empty cup against its matching saucer and the green mare stopped her assault. “What a bad fluffy you are, but what could I expect from a smarty?” She turned and started preparing herself another cup of coffee.
“Wai?! Wai huwt bwuddah?!” Daffodil sobbed. The grey mare didn’t reply, just stared into the darkness at the doctor.
“Because he’s a smarty.” Dr. Jackson answered, a new cup in hand. “And I hope he doesn’t hurt you too.”
The green mare turned sharply to Daffodil, who cowered under her hooves.
“No, Alder. Don’t.” she said impassionately.
“Spechow fwend, pwease-” With a loud thwack Daffodil was knocked aside by the mare. She yelped as she hit the ground, then screamed as her mate’s imposter shoved her horn into her side. You saw dark blood splash out across the white fluff as the mare yanked her horn out. The foals cowered in the corner as their mother was beaten by the mare, her screams turning to sobs and then to groans of pain.
With another audible tap Dr. Jackson set her second cup on the saucer and the mare froze with her hoof in the air above the bloody form of Daffodil.
“A shame, really. She was such a nice fluffy.” She slowly prepared herself another cup as the once white mare tried to drag herself across the floor to her terrified foals. “But that’s what’s to be expected of smarties.”
With the click of the spoon against the third cup, the mare’s head shot up, ears pricked. “Now Alder, I know you can be a good fluffy if you try. Just don’t violate those poor foals.”
The mare spun, stepping on Daffodil’s body as she went by like she didn’t even notice it was there. The foals cowered back from her, one of the blue ones standing up in front of the others.
“N-n-nu huwt! Nu! G-gun gib-” With a crunch the green mare brought her hoof down on top of him, his upper half mashed flat.
Daffodil wailed as the mare picked up the second of the blue foals, jamming her horn into its rectum.
“Enf! Enf!” She pressed her forehead into the foal as if it was a phallus, making a somewhat artificial imitation of a male fluffy. She eventually pressed a little too hard into the foal, splitting it open and spreading its innards across her forehead. She paused for a moment, then reached for the mint foal who scooted behind its yellow brother. She knocked the yellow foal aside, where it slammed into the side of the pen, a splatter of blood emanating from its nose as it fell. The mare managed to corner the mint foal and pressed her horn into it, eliciting a screech from it.
Dr. Jackson continued watching the mare enf away at the foal, sipping her third small cup of coffee much slower than the others. Alder next to her struggled and flailed, you could see the occasional glint of light from what must be many tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Look what you’re doing, Alder.” The doctor’s voice was just barely audible over the “enf”s and sounds of misery from the pen. “Look what being a smarty got you.”
“Guud feews.” The mare announced robotically, and sat up with the limp green foal still impaled on her horn.
“Look what you did.” Dr. Jackson said again. “Look what this got you.”
And then the video ended. You were left with just your horrified expression reflected in the dark screen. With shaking hands you pulled your earbuds free and closed the video. A few more documents remained in Alder’s file but you just… couldn’t do it. Couldn’t see any more. You closed his file and started looking through for Ella’s to make the note. You thought you’d dig through all of it, expose everything you could and then take it to the news like Romero wanted but this was so much worse than you could have ever thought of. You were unsure how you were going to survive the rest of the night.
Ella’s file was filled with various documents and reports, and you made your quick note about how much sedative you gave her and about what time it was when you did. Your fingers moved numbly across the keys as you remembered the impartial words you were trained to use in these sorts of documents. Finishing the note you signed it and clicked save, seeing it added to the list along with the video you filmed with her. At the very top of the list there was another video, and your pointer hovered over it. You didn’t want to see any more, not tonight, not at all. However, you liked Ella, she was a sweet fluffy. If they were abusing her… you hoped you could help her. With a sigh you put your headphones back in and clicked play on the video.
[BASELINE 328211: CIRRUS]
The video started with Ella being set down on a table very similar to the one you interviewed primrose on earlier in the day. The name threw you for a loop though, how many white alicorns with pale blue manes could there be in the world?
“Can you give me your name, sweetheart?” You heard Victor’s voice behind the camera.
“Namesie am Ciwwus!” Ella, or Cirrus, chirped.
“Very good, do you know where you are?”
“Am in the hospitaw, Mummah bwing Ciwwus so can get bettah!”
“Right! And can you tell me what color you are?”
“Ciwwus am white!” She replied, little wings flapping.
“Good girl. Now lift your right hoof.” Victor’s voice was firm, in a tone you’d never heard him use before.
She did, holding it happily in the air.
“Now bite it.”
Without any hesitation she shoved her hoof into her mouth, biting down hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. She held it there, grinding her teeth into her own flesh as hard as she could, and you winced in sympathy.
“Very good, you can stop.”
Cirrus slowly pulled her hoof from her mouth, an angry red mark visible under her white fluff. “Wai nice mistah wan Ciwwus to hab huwties?” she asked, stifling a sob.
Victor ignored the request. “Stand on one of your hind legs.”
Crying quietly Cirrus stood slowly, carefully balancing on one of her hind legs. She wobbled left and right but never quite fell. Victor let her stay there until she was grunting in exertion, the fluffy form clearly not meant to hold a pose like this.
“Good. You can stop.”
She fell to the table roughly, tucking her nose under her hooves and sobbing into them.
“Your name is now Ella,” Victor spoke firmly. “You have always lived at this hospital, and you never had a mummah.”
Ella, newly named, looked up at him with terror in her eyes. “Wha? Buh…” she trailed off, thinking. “Ewwa… wan hab mummah.”
“And it’s so sad you don’t have one yet, honey.” Victor’s cheery tone returned, entering the frame to hug her. “But once you’re better we’ll find you one.”
“Tankoo nice mistah.” Ella sniffled into his arm.
“Now promise me you won’t tell anyone about what happens in these tests, okay?”
“Otay nice mistah.” Ella said, then the video ended.
Cirrus. Her name used to be Cirrus. You rolled the video back a few minutes, to when she was smiling on the table and snapped a picture on your phone. If Ella had an owner, you might be able to track her down somehow and get more information. You closed the window and started to shut down the computer when you saw the icon for Walters’ email. Couldn’t hurt to look through that as well.
It was packed with the normal things yours was, staff training, reminders of the hospital rules that were always not so subtle call outs for bad behavior, fake phishing emails that would land you an afternoon with the IT department. Mixed into these, however, you saw a few from Walters’ to another member of the hospital, someone named John Kim. You didn’t know anyone by that name, but he had a hospital email so he was someone on staff.
“u cumming tues?” the subjectless email asked.
“yah” Walters had replied.
“got new place. 422 diamond st. 1030 now too, dont be late”
“got it.”
The email chain ended there, and you took a quick picture of the address and time. You had no idea what this was about, but it was something to investigate. You had Tuesday off, if Victor wasn’t lying, so you’d be able to investigate this. You heard Romero’s comment about recon play in your head and chuckled to yourself as you logged out of the program. You were following leads, investigating, maybe this was a spy movie after all. You left the office, humming the mission impossible theme as you planned out how you’d spend the rest of the night.
