"Most hospitals have...rooms and stuff. For pa - for patients." The word hitches, an awkward stutter in his throat that closes it before its termination. Gives him away, doesn't it? The way the world curls up like a thick black snake sitting in his guts, a coiling pressure squeezing tight around his ribs.

There's nothing here. No burn scarring chasing the walls. Just broken glass, and too many flowers.

"This just looks like wherever they did their research."