Dawn of Spring

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The Health and Care Hospital was situated on the outskirts of the city.

The trip was difficult. Vivaan, Ahana, and Advik shared one car, while Nurse Pia and her assistant traveled in another. The road seemed endless, full of potholes that made the ride rather uncomfortable. Every bump shook them, adding to their frustration. The journey, which lasted two hours and twenty-five minutes, felt like an eternity, with dust clouds obscuring their path and occasional honks from impatient drivers piercing the silence.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Vivaan groaned as another sharp jolt rattled him. "At this rate, I'm going to need a ward for myself before we even get there," he muttered, rubbing his neck.

Ahana, squished in the back seat with a pile of files on her lap, chuckled despite herself. "At least you're in the front seat. Try enduring this circus back here." She shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a better position among the clutter.

Advik, his eyes focused on the winding road ahead, smirked faintly but didn't look away from the steering wheel. "Maybe next time, we'll bring a chiropractor along," he said dryly.

The GPS, mounted on the dashboard, chimed in. 

Take a left turn in ten meters.

Advik obeyed, guiding the car onto a narrower road. Ahead, an old, half-renovated building loomed into view, its faded facade looking more like an abandoned warehouse than a hospital.

"Is this it?" Ahana leaned forward, peering through the windshield. Her tone carried both skepticism and disbelief. "Is this the hospital?"

"Health and Care Hospital," Vivaan read aloud, his eyes narrowing at the weathered sign covered in dirt and flaking paint. "Well, they got the 'care' part wrong."

The hospital grounds were modest, occupying barely three thousand square feet, bordered by a rusting chain-link fence. Overgrown weeds pushed through cracks in the pavement, and a few stray cats darted away at the sound of their car doors slamming shut.

"This is... charming," Ahana said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Vivaan glanced at her, unimpressed. "Let's hope the inside doesn't match the outside," he muttered as they approached the entrance.

They shared a look before marching in. 

Inside, the scene was worse. The reception desk stood deserted, with piles of paperwork scattered haphazardly across its surface. A faint smell of disinfectant mingled with something far less pleasant lingered in the air.

"There's no one here," Ahana said, her voice echoing in the empty lobby. She glanced around nervously, her fingers tightening on the strap of her bag.

Vivaan's patience, already thin from the bumpy journey, snapped. "Unbelievable," he growled. "What kind of hospital is this? Who runs a place like this?"

He stormed down the corridor, his footsteps echoing loudly. "Hello?" he shouted. "We were informed a little girl in a wheelchair was admitted here! Can someone explain what's going on?"

His voice reverberated through the hall, but no one answered. The silence was infuriating. Just as Vivaan turned back to rejoin the group, a disheveled attendant shuffled into view, looking like he had just woken up from a nap.

Vivaan's sharp gaze zeroed in on him immediately. "Finally! You - where's the girl? Gia. Eight years old. Wheelchair. Where is she?" He thrust a photocopy of the girl's ID in front of the attendant.

The man squinted at the photo, his brows furrowing as if trying to recall something. Recognition flickered in his expression briefly before he shrugged. "Oh, this one?" He pointed lazily at the photo. "I don't know her."