In the dim light of an old warehouse near the coast, the air hung thick with the metallic bite of rust and dried blood. Flickering bulbs cast weak shadows across the concrete walls, barely pushing back the darkness.

On a narrow bed in one of the inner rooms lay Bertha, her face ghostly pale and her body so still she looked more corpse than living woman. The doctor, dressed in a stained white coat with mask and gloves, finished his examination and straightened up with a tight expression. ...