That Night √

41» That Betrayal

Grace's POV
« NOW »

"This is Ms Shepard. The best paramedic in our department." Cynthia spoke up, introducing me to a a beautiful brunette woman. Like any other staff, she was wearing a long white coat over her clothes which somehow went along with the white interior of this huge building.

"Hello." She spoke up, smiling at me warmly.

This place was huge. The entire department was huge. Surprisingly, this was just one of the many headquarters out there. I never knew Dad worked amongst these people.

Yet he never told me.

"We rarely get visitors here." The brunette woman –Ms Shepard– spoke up. She seemed sweet apart from all the other staff I had managed to spot here. The others hadn't even given me a second glance as Cynthia had walked me through the various hallways.

Cynthia nodded in response. "This is Grace Collins, Jamie."

Ms Shepard's eyes flew over towards me almost abruptly, as if what Cynthia had just said surprised her. Soon enough, her genuinely sweet look transformed into something a little...less sweet and welcoming.

I wouldn't say I wasn't surprised.

"Oh. Ms Collins." Her dark brown eyes trailed across my face. "It's so...nice to finally meet you."

I forced a smile on my face, even if she was acting quite weird in my opinion.

"They all worked with your father, Grace." Cynthia spoke up with a sympathetic smile. "His death brought a huge impact on all of us."

I looked back at Jamie, who had turned back towards her paperwork, not looking at me anymore. Just like those other people.

"Come on. I'll show you the laboratory."

This whole place was straight out from a science fiction movie. Not that I loved science fiction movies. White walls. White doors. White floor. Every single furniture was made out of glass, giving it all a sophisticated yet a little...weird look.

Too much white wasn't my thing.

I followed Cynthia towards a long empty hallway, her heels clicking against the polished white floor. I looked around me, once again a little surprised to find no wall clocks or even windows. Which was quite strange since I hadn't even spotted any windows along the highly guarded reception area.

I didn't even know what time it was right now.

Walking a few more steps, I looked up at the tall glass doors. Before Cynthia could've pressed on the small button to open them, a voice spoke up,

"Cynthia."

We both turned around abruptly. I blinked and looked at the man in front of us, almost of my father's age. He had short cropped dark brown hair, slight hint of a stubble across his face. And not surprisingly, he was dressed in the same white lab coat like the others.