(Don't hate me for what's gonna happen)
"There are two kinds of guilt: the kind that drowns you until you're useless, and the kind that fires your soul to purpose." ~Sabaa Tahir
V.C.sauntered into the laboratory and knocked on the receptionist glass. The brunette on the other side jumped at the sound and slide the glass open.
V.C. gave her a smile. "Hi, I'm here to pick up a file for Dr. Cadfrey on a Mr. Mateo Emblem."
The receptionist stood up and smoothed her wrinkled scrubs. "Of course, I just need some hospital ID first."
V.C. pretended to look in her handbag for said ID that she knew did not exist. The woman saw her struggle and smiled. "Let me get the files while you look."
She disappeared behind a rack of files, leaving V.C. alone to create a plan.
Mind racing, V.C. surveyed the room around her. A couple of middle-aged women sat in padded chairs by the window, gossiping over some TMZ Magazines. To her left, a young, overweight man plopped down in a chair and immediately started to flip through a brightly colored comic book.
Not exactly hospital employees.
Just then, the outside double doors slid open and a hospital orderly wheeled in an elderly woman. She was slouched down in a wheelchair and her loose tongue was running wild, taking advantage of her captive listener. The frustrated orderly was having trouble pushing both the wheelchair and navigating the elevator without getting crushed between the silver doors.
V.C. had more important things to focus on than the struggling man so she turned her attention elsewhere. But then his badge twinkled under the LED lights, calling to her. Just ready for the taking.
Shooting the orderly a smile, V.C. ventured over to the moving couple. Laying an arm across the door of the elevator, V.C. held it open for the man and his talkative companion. She wished the two of them a good day, nodding to the grandmother who seemed to not even notice the crafty doctor.
The orderly entered the elevator, squeezing past V.C., giving her enough time to simultaneously swipe his hospital badge from the hem of his scrubs and pocket it for herself.
The steel doors banged shut with the orderly not any wiser to the thievery that had taken place.
Glancing at the stolen artifact, V.C. determined that it was her lucky day. The lab didn't require picture IDs but instead just had an access bar-code. Meaning she was now the newest employee of Kindred General.
Whirling around, V.C. made it back to the window just in time to slide the card across the counter to the receptionist.
Everything went off without a hitch and soon V.C. had the files in hand.
She was just about to exit the building when guilt assaulted her. Over her profession, she had stolen tons of ID, top secret information, and conducted covert espionage.
But this time, she decided that she should probably return the ID to the poor man before he lost his job for misplacing it. Therefore, she ventured into the elevator to find him.
It turned out to be a mistake.
The phlebotomy lab was connected to a hospital.
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