Alice would have used the emergency stairs, but with the wheelchair, it had to be an elevator, and that meant slow and noisy. She rolled Xavi past rows of sleeping old people and into the dimly lit corridor. She paused and listened. The silence made the ringing in her ears louder, but there was nothing to hear—no machine tones, no PA asking for doctors, no shouts from patients, or tired nurses calling to each other. Only the hum of the mechanical system disturbed the peace. If it hadn’t been for the reek of antiseptic, the whole building would have felt more like a deserted hotel or a prison on lockdown.