"She was diagnosed with Parkinson's before she came here. She's improved an enormous amount, but we're not allowed to say so."
"Why is that?"
"We're in clinical trials. No one is allowed to discuss our results. Everyone here had to sign a secrecy agreement."
Now Maria was helping Nina up the steps. The porch, with its soaring white Doric columns, was definitely magisterial. The front door, however, was not wooden or decorative. It was solid steel, albeit painted white to blend in.
Elise walked to the door, which had a video camera mounted above it, and a split second later, it buzzed, signaling it was unlocked.
This is a lot of security, Ally thought, for a clinic doing research on cells. Are they worried about spies getting in, or patients getting out?
But the locked steel door was just the beginning of the security. Next they entered a small room just inside the door with an X‑ray machine to see into purses and parcels.
"The first floor is reception and dining," Elise explained as she swept through the metal detector. "There are rooms— we call them suites—upstairs for patients, and the research lab and offices are in the . . . lower area."
"What . . . what is all this security for?" Ally asked.
"The work here is highly proprietary. No one is allowed to bring in any kind of camera or recording equipment."