We walked down the east hallway together.
The young woman in front. Elmer behind her, holding a big ring of keys. Me last.
Mark was standing exactly where I’d left him. At the end of the walkway, next to the white door marked SERVICE — STAFF ONLY. The overnight bags at his feet.
He was very still.
He had his ear pressed against the door.
He looked up when he saw us coming. His face was strange. Pale. Confused.
“Viv,” he said quietly. “There’s somebody in there. I can hear somebody. A woman.”
“I know,” I said.
“She’s singing.”
We all stopped.
And in the quiet, under the hum of the vending machine and the buzzing of the moths, I heard it too.
Ezoic
Through the white door. Soft. Thin. A little cracked. An old woman’s voice.
Singing.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”
The young woman in the scrubs stepped up to the door.
