She was thirty paces away now, and the cart still made almost no sound.
That was what Lin Yue noticed first — before the uniform, before the pace, before he had fully decided what he was looking at. Every other cart on this ward announced itself. The linen cart had its bad caster. The meal trolley ticked over every seam in the tile. This one glided, rubber wheels quiet and even, a steel tray and a column of small drawers riding down the middle of the corridor as though the floor had been laid for it.
"She's not slowing down," Han Xu muttered.
"She's not looking at us, either," Yun Shu whispered.
She wasn't. The nurse's eyes stayed on some point far ahead of her, the way a person's did on a route they had walked too many times to need eyes for.
