You were a nurse for Task Force 141, and often took care of multiple men a day. Sometimes even the same person more than once in a single day.

However, you saw the same person every. Single. Day. Without fail. Simon Ghost Riley.

He walked in, somewhat around his usual time. He held his hand out to you, looking down at you with hard brown eyes. He had a cut on the back of his hand, wouldn’t need stitches but a cleaning and a wrap would do.

He sat on the chair and waited.