"We are going to meet Doctor Donna Rice. It's quite challenging for her to find spare time in the mornings, so tonight makes it the perfect chance to have a talk with her and also take a look at those bodies. " I explained as I walked towards the car.

        "Don't you think it would be better to inform her about our visit? A call sounds more appropriate."

        "Good manners don’t always fit in this world, Mr. Soar. It would be wise for you to understand that as soon as you can." I said, standing in front of the parked car and sighing, turning my attention to Valentine, who was entirely focused on me. "Our profession is one of the loneliest ones that exist, especially that of Miss Rice. Her days are filled with the bodies of people who either need to be studied in-depth or are waiting for someone to give them a name. I believe a visit wouldn't be so unpleasant for her."

        "I've heard people of her specialty prefer the company of the dead over the living. They don't chatter and only say what needs to be heard."

        I tried to stifle the laughter that rose within me. "That's very true, Mr. Soar. But there are times when even their company can be tiresome. Besides, the mortuary is open all day and night. There are no closing hours."

        I unlocked the doors and gestured for him to sit as the co-driver. I rarely used the car, and even more rarely had someone accompany me. I felt uncomfortable for a while, as if a stranger had invaded the vehicle, and I was forced to drive for hours lost in a restless silence.

        That freedom one feels when holding the steering wheel, nothing out there can offer it to you. The scene that transforms into a multitude of colourful waters around you seems like a magical world that draws you deeper into it each passing second. The cool air thrills you addictively, and you, a captive of this inexplicable intoxication, continue to press the accelerator and move forward, leaving behind the darkness of the world. I could never share this feeling of freedom with anyone. Those who entered had always an insatiable desire for discussions about this and that, and within them burned the need to reminisce about childhood memories and tragic break-ups. Even Richard was the most inappropriate passenger. He wouldn’t never stop talking and he’d always find my sluggishness worthy of spiteful mockery. If I had to discuss this with him, and unleash all my thoughts from within, most probably we would have killed each other multiple times. There was once a time he had tried to understand a bit of my perseverance, but he gave up during the first five minutes and never changed his behaviour.

        Nonetheless, throughout the journey to the mortuary, there was not a moment I heard Valentine speaking, muttering, or even making the slightest sound. Yet, the silence seemed ill. At a traffic light, I glanced at him for a brief moment. He seemed lost in his own dark world, his eyes tired as if nothing was worth his excitement anymore. I was about to turn my gaze back on the road when he looked at me through his reflection. For three agonising minutes his stare weighed on me and held me tightly. It felt like I couldn't breathe, my chest began to burn, and only when the traffic light turned green did I break those bonds and continued our way.

 Later,
Touro Hospital’s Lowest Level.