Vicky's POV
We finally arrived at the location Oliver punched into the GPS, and the moment I saw the place… my face automatically folded into a frown.
A towering, solid gate. Concrete walls high enough to keep giants out. Barbed wire lined the top like we were entering a high-security research lab where people get experimented on while fully conscious.
I slowed down, staring at the structure.
What in the name of all suspicious facilities is this place?
Before I could ask, Oliver reached over and honked the horn—on my side, because apparently he was now the captain of my driver's seat.
A guard stepped out and knocked on the window. "Card, please."
Oliver casually handed him a pink card.
A pink card!
Sir, what aesthetic prison is this?
"You may come in," the guard said, stepping aside.
My eyebrows were practically touching my hairline as I followed a winding path inside. People were walking around the garden—some in scrubs, some in casual clothes, some talking to nurses.
