The woman looked up. She was the same middle‑aged Hispanic nurse with bold eye makeup who was there when they came in. "Hi. How's your friend feeling?"
"Actually, she's my cousin, and I don't know how she's doing because they kicked . . . sent me up here. But she gave me a mission to keep me occupied."
"Well," the woman declared with a smile, "I'm sure she'll be fine. Dr. Van de Vliet is a miracle worker."
"So everyone says." He smiled back. "My cousin asked me to look in on her mother. Nina Hampton. She is, or was, in two‑thirteen."
"Mrs. Hampton is your aunt?"
"Uh, yeah, right." Whoops. Get this act together. "Funny, but I always just think of her as my cousin Ally's mother. My own weird way to look at it, I guess. I don't really know her all that well."
Things are not getting off to a great start, he told himself. I don't even believe me.
"Visits to patients, except by those on a pre‑established list, require a photo ID."
"Well, let's get started." He reached for his wallet and withdrew a driver's license. He made sure his press card was well out of sight.
Keep this dumb and innocent as long as possible, he told himself.