Even though Modred had claimed that his hospital was just a little one, Gianna could see immediately that the hospital had become something far from little in recent years, since the last time she had been here.
Renovations had clearly been made, not in patches but side by side, wing after wing stretching outward with quiet ambition, and the hospital could now be said to be a big one—top ten if she dared to say it aloud.
And she was sure there were other branches.
The humility of Modred—or the dirty thing he wore as one—was just unnecessary.
The building itself rose in sleek confidence, glass panels reflecting the late morning sun in sharp gleams that forced her to squint briefly. The outer walls were a careful blend of sand-colored stone and tinted glass, the hospital's name emblazoned boldly in steel letters that shone with money and reputation.
