The footsteps of the group came to a halt in a chamber that defied every definition of a "waiting room" Dayat had ever known back in Jakarta. In his world, a waiting area was typically a sterile box defined by whitewashed concrete, fluorescent lighting that hummed with a headache-inducing frequency, and a struggling air conditioner that hissed as it fought the tropical heat.
The Kenanga Waiting Room, however, was a botanical masterpiece.
