It is hard going, but the demolition is scheduled for tomorrow. The brush that started at your ankles now reaches chest height; the fence is in sight.
Past bulldozers, poised like fierce beasts to devour the hapless sanatorium, you enter and hunt for #36.
Sadness overwhelms as you search her room for what was hidden within the wall. After the accident, her decline had been swift. Seventeen years since you learned the truth about Daisy, it’s now or never. An unseen hand guides you to a loose wallpaper patch, glittering Art Deco reveals itself.
Her bracelets are safe once again.