Two hours later, a young orderly pushed my wheelchair down the polished linoleum hallway.

The rubber-soled shoes of the nursing staff squeaked in every direction as we passed the main station.

He wheeled me into a small, windowless office on the ground floor of the administrative wing.

The room smelled like stale coffee and old paper.

A woman with silver hair sat behind a desk piled high with thick manila folders.

Dr.

Grant stood by the door, holding his blue clipboard tight against his chest.

“Hannah, this is Ms.