Chapter 3 - Confronting Gerald Russo About The Odd House Odors
The nursery doors swung open silently to reveal a massive, sterile room filled with high-tech monitors and medical equipment. Two small figures lay motionless in twin beds, looking far too frail for six-year-old boys.
Gerald lingered by the doorway, keeping a cautious distance while I approached the nearest bed. I caught that faint, sugary scent again, lingering near the hospital-grade air purifier humming in the corner.
Mr. Russo, what is that distinct smell in this wing? I asked without turning around. Gerald blinked, adjusting his silver lapel pin with practiced composure.
It is a specialized medical-grade disinfectant recommended by Dr. Ashford’s team. It keeps the room sterile for the boys' compromised immune systems.
I leaned closer to the air intake filter, noticing a faint oily residue coating the plastic housing. Disinfectants don't usually leave a sweet, syrupy film on the intake vents, Mr. Russo.
Gerald stepped into the room, his voice dropping into a low, authoritative register. Miss Mitchell, your job is to monitor their vital signs and feed them on schedule, not investigate the hvac system.
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I turned to face him, meeting his sharp gaze without flinching. When children are dying and doctors are failing, the environment is the first thing worth questioning.
Gerald stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment before walking toward the door. Stay focused on your duties, Miss Mitchell, he warned before stepping out into the hall.
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