The air inside smelled strongly of damp paper, old floor wax and a faint trace of smoke.

An enormous leather-bound book lay open on a metal cart under a flickering fluorescent tube.

The top edges of the pages were scorched black.

“This is the master admissions log from the night of the 2000 hospital fire,” Martha said.

Her hands trembled a little as she pointed to a line near the bottom of the right-hand page.

The blue ink had faded, but it was perfectly readable under the harsh light.

A woman named Elena had come in through the emergency room at eleven forty that night.