I followed.
Charlie took bags and boxes from his trunk and carried them inside.
He moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where he was going. He nodded to a nurse at the desk. She smiled warmly and pointed him toward the far wing. He slipped into a supply room and shut the door.
I looked through the narrow window. Charlie was changing into bright oversized suspenders, a ridiculous checkered coat, and a round red clown nose. Then he took one deep breath, picked up the bags, and walked back into the hall.
I quickly slipped behind a wall and watched him enter the pediatric ward. Children started smiling before Charlie reached the first room. He pulled toys from the bags, handed out coloring books, and did a fake stumble that made one little girl laugh so hard she clapped.
A nurse passing by grinned and said, “You’re late, Professor Giggles!”
Charlie smiled back.
I quickly slipped behind a wall and watched him enter the pediatric ward.
I stood still. Nothing about what I was seeing matched the suspicion Owen’s letter had lit inside me. I slowly stepped into the ward, unable to hold back any longer.
