We crossed the half empty parking lot to a Jeep Grand Cherokee. Beads of early morning dew clung to the shiny black paint, making me wonder how long Ameerah had been lurking around the hospital. She pulled keys out of her pocket and pushed a button. A clicking noise resounded inside the vehicle. I quickly scanned the area for intruding eyes. A red Ford Focus pulled into a parking space, and a petite blonde emerged wearing blue scrubs. Other vehicles were filing in. The morning shift was arriving and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Ameerah opened the door and disappeared from my sight. I followed suit, sinking into the soft leather seat. In no time, we were exiting the hospital grounds, turning off of Exchange street toward twentieth. Trees towered above houses built in the early 1900s, shedding their crimson and gold leaves around the spacious properties. The early morning sun poked through the gray clouds, highlighting the brilliant foliage scattered on patches of bare earth. Without taking her eyes off the road, Ameerah reached between our seats to the back, producing a pale yellow, leathery book with brass clasps holding down leather straps.
