As she crept around the halls, Max couldn’t help but imagine Ridley as he hurried up and down these halls, responding to flatliners and strokes, and whatever else happened to people in an ICU. Were the other rooms holding patients that he had diagnosed? Did he know those nurses? Did he flirt with Kelly? That last part made her snort. Ridley did not have the necessary human communication skills to flirt properly.

The doors led to a large hallway that contained elevators and seating areas with furniture not updated since early nineties-- clear stained oak and pastel vinyl seats. Frantically tapping the down button, she persisted even after it glowed orange and indicated it had understood her request. The mechanical noises of the rising elevator were drowned out by approaching voices. Someone coming up in the e...

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