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man’s extended
hand and gently shook it. “Hey Russell, my name is Rick Soblinski.
I have been taking care of the Jane Doe since she appeared here at
Oak Leaf. Just to warn you, our Jane is severely dis—”
    “I am completely up
to speed on the appearance of your new resident,” Russell cut in.
“The State of New York has taken a special interest in this case, I
will be accompanying you as you care for your new patient for the
rest of the week.”
    “The rest of the
week—that seems a little extreme to me. Why would the state be so
concerned with an abandoned elderly woman?” asked Rick.
    “Cases of elderly
neglect have been increasing over the past five years. Some see the
need to pass stricter laws that will deter this sort of negligence,
and this extreme case will serve as fodder to get the push the
proposed legislation needs,” Russell adjusted himself precariously
on his crutches, but managed to keep his composure. “This study
will help change things for the better, and you can play a part in
it.”
    “I see . . . I
apologize if I came off as rude. All this is just very much out of
the ordinary for me. I appreciate what you are doing, and you are
welcome to any assistance I can provide.”
    This injured man seemed
to share the same sentiment for elders as Rick, wanted to take action
for their widespread abuse. Rick came from a traditional Polish
household. His parents taught him that the level of respect that was
given to a person was directly proportionate to their age, especially
if they were family. Rick saw that many middle aged adults viewed
their parents as a cruel mirror to their own mortality, and that they
thought the best course of action to put them up in a nursing home,
out of sight-out of mind.
    “How about you run
down all the treatments that have been administered so far to the
patient,”
    Rick presented the
chronological order of The Jane’s daily schedule: from the suck
cart to the daily sponge baths, simply retelling it made his skin
crawl. He asked subtle questions in between Russell’s, slowly
uncovering that the research on this case was being applied to a
joint research project involving New York State Adult Protective
Services and NYU’s department of medicine.
    He wanted to tell
Russell about the strange presence in the Jane’s room, but he was
talking to a New York State social worker. The audit would be
substantially complicated, if he affected an air of mental
instability.

Chapter 4: Allie
    Where
the hell is he? Allie awoke to an empty bed. On the desk
in the corner, the light was blinking on her Blackberry, indicating
she had a new voice message. She leapt out of bed, expecting the
worst.
    “Hey, hun,” Rick
said in the message. “I’m with an auditor from upstate. He’s
here to check on the new patient I was telling you about. He’s
never been to Buffalo—can you believe that? I’m gonna show him
around town tonight. Sorry for the late notice.” Rick’s
inflection was monotone, uncharacteristic of the jokester. The
message was recorded at 12:03 am.
    Am
I over reacting? He hasn’t had a guy’s night out in ages .
But knowing that Rick had run into trouble in the past, a part of her
always worried when he was out drinking. She never had to deal with
him staying out all night before. Something didn’t bode well: his
voice sounded strange, not drunk, but that was only one flavor of
poison.
    Allie attempted to dial
Rick, but the call cut straight to his voicemail. In the full body
mirror in the corner of the bedroom, her reflection showed
sleep-lines woven in obscure patterns on the left of her face. She
wore a wrinkled black tee and high-cut, lace panties, not ideal to
sleep in; the red draw string that tied in the small of her back
squeezed her butt in an uncomfortable fashion. However, these panties
made her ass look spectacular, and Rick obliged, in fact they were
his favorite.
    Yesterday, she had
braved the discomfort of her special panties the entire day at