I sighed. That made sense. Dr. Grant said they were keeping an eye on him.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a stab of disappointment.

I turned to walk toward the door, but Karter hooked his arm under mine and pulled me in the direction of the elevator. “We should go pick up your meds while we’re here,” he said.

“Huh?”

He gently squeezed my hand.

“Oh,” I said, picking up on the ruse. “Good idea.”

Karter smiled at the receptionist as we got into the elevator. As soon as the door closed he let go of my arm.

“They’re not gonna let us see him.”

He thought for a moment. “I can cause a distraction and you can sneak in.”

“Wait. What?”

“I’ll slip and fall or something,” he said with a smirk. “I might not have to pretend. I have two left feet.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” I had definitely noticed. It was kind of funny that the person who was going to help me stealthily sneak in to see the stranger from the woods was probably the most uncoordinated person ever. I pushed my glasses up. “So you’re good at scamming people? Should I be worried?”

“Nah.” He smiled that big toothy grin of his. “But keep me in mind if you ever need to make half-assed plans that probably won’t work out.”

The elevator climbed to the third floor. The doors slid open and we followed the signs to room 316. It was the last room situated at the end of the east hall, and a police officer sat outside the door scrolling through his phone. I ducked behind a crash cart and pulled Karter down next to me.

“What are we gonna do? I can’t just walk in there.”

Karter bit his bottom lip, scrunching his bushy eyebrows together. Suddenly, he clapped his hands. “Okay.”

He stood up and marched out from behind the cart, drawing the officer’s attention.

“Shit,” I said under my breath.

Karter’s left ankle suddenly twisted and his leg folded under him. He fell to the floor, moaning, and started rolling around.

The officer leaped up and a nurse came skidding around the corner. I ran after her, hoping it would make my approach to room 316 less obvious. The nurse knelt at Karter’s side as he clutched his ankle. A thin film of sweat blanketed his forehead. He wasn’t kidding when he said he might not have to fake it. I caught his gaze and he jerked his head toward the door before letting out another groan. I crept past as the police officer and nurse both tried to comfort him. I backed up until I reached the door, then quickly slipped inside, closing it behind me.

The patient was shackled to the bed rails and sleeping soundly. The room was small, with a single window overlooking the parking lot. The drab monochrome decor made the space feel cramped.