I called his phone, listened to it ring, and reached his voicemail.

I tried again near the elevator, then remembered the look on his face before he ran away from me.

It hadn’t been ordinary worry.

He had recognized the number on his screen.

Whoever had called, he had been expecting news.

At the nurses’ station, I asked whether anyone had seen him.

A volunteer with silver-framed glasses pointed toward the third-floor consultation rooms.

“A gentleman matching that description went down there a few minutes ago.”