About 20 minutes later, Roland reached his destination.
He looked around but did not find any building that resembled a hospital. Instead, what he saw were several splendid, magnificent modern edifices.
"Right here," Garcia said with a nod.
"Are you sure?" Roland asked a little suspiciously as he drove toward the entrance, and then he noticed a name plate that read, "Green Meadow Sanatorium".
"Of course. Everybody was as surprised as you when they first came here."
A few burly guards wearing sunglasses and suits soon approached them and surrounded the car. One of them knocked on the window and said, "Sorry, this is a private premise. You can't park here."
Roland twiched his lips. Oi, oi, why was he always treated as crap? He was not here to park the vehicle but to visit patients. What was the problem with driving a mini van?
