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“Yes, her name is Emerald Winter. She was brought to this hospital about thirteen years ago. I need you to check her records, I’m her son.” Daxon says to the receptionist who looks at him confused.

“Sir, did you say thirteen years ago? That is a long time.” She says and Azura joins the conversation, folding her hands at the counter.

“We are aware of that. Can you help us?” Azura asks.

“Well, I’m not sure but I hope I can. I have not been working here for thirteen years but I can look for the information. You said she was a patient here for thirteen years? Naomi Winter right?” The receptionist asks.

“Yes, please check.” Daxon says, eager for the tiniest bit of information that he can get from the hospital.

The receptionist begins to sift through a stack of patient files. With focused eyes, she scans each page, occasionally jotting down notes and information into the computer next to herself. Their expression reflects a mix of concentration.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you but there is n
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