Chapter 109: Investigating The Nursing Home

Damian In the afternoon. I approached the nursing home, a worn-out, weathered sign reading "Evergreen Haven" creaking in the wind. The building itself was an eyesore—faded bricks. I swallowed hard as I adjusted my hat, pulling it low over my eyes. I glanced at my reflection in the glass door before stepping inside. The disguise was almost too perfect—dark suit, tie, a trench coat that gave me a bulkier appearance, and a fake detective ID clipped to my belt under the coat. I had gone to great lengths to make sure I looked the part of Harry Weston, private investigator. The ID had cost a small fortune, but it was worth every penny if it meant bringing Gregory down. As I stepped into the foyer, the smell of antiseptic mixed with the faint odor of mildew hit my nostrils. The interior was no better than the exterior—with peeling wallpaper and a receptionist who looked as tired and worn as the building itself. She was a petite woman with graying hair tied back into a bun, her glasses perc