“And not a single person came from her side of the family.”

“I am so very sorry,” Natalie wept softly.

“Where is he right now?” I asked, standing up straight from the cafeteria table.

“Room four twelve,” Natalie answered, pointing up toward the elevator bank.

“Stay right here,” I ordered her as I turned away.

PART 5

A frail, thin old man lay inside the cold hospital bed with an oxygen tube running under his sharp nose.

The name plaque on the door read Arthur Sinclair.