Clara was cruising down the road towards the old hospital, checking the rearview mirror every now and then. Sure enough, a familiar car was trailing her. The license plate gave it away—it was Simon's. That guy just couldn't take a hint.
With a sigh, Clara floored the gas pedal, pushing her car to its limits. Simon backed off a bit, keeping a cautious distance.
When Clara finally arrived, she couldn't help but notice how run-down the hospital looked. If it were nighttime, the place would definitely give off haunted house vibes. When she stepped out of her car, her eyes landed on an elderly man sweeping the large courtyard. Despite the place's shabby exterior, it was spotlessly clean, as if someone made sure to keep the dust at bay every day.
Curious, Clara hurried over to the old man. "Sir, the ground's already spotless. Why don't you take a break?"
The old man paused, his snow-white hair ruffling in the breeze. A light of recognition brightened his eyes. "Clara, is that you? What brings you here?"
Clara blinked in surprise. He knew her? "Yeah, it's me."
He set down his broom and untied his apron. "It’s been a year since you last came by. How’ve you been?"
Smothering her surprise, Clara gave a warm smile. "I've been doing well."
The old man had a certain charm to him. The hospital grounds, despite their state of disrepair, were dotted with flowers, and in the middle of the open lawn sat a stone table surrounded by a few stone benches.
Clara followed him and took a seat on one of the benches. "Please, sit down. I'll get some tea," he said, heading inside.
Clara jumped up. "Let me help you."
"It’s okay. Just relax."
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