But today, when the dog left, I followed him. Down the hallway, past the nurses’ lounge, to a stairwell that no one uses.

He scratched at a loose panel in the wall. I pulled it open.

Inside was a narrow, dusty compartment. Old wiring. A rusted switchboard. And… a box. Wooden, with a symbol on it. The same V. Burned into the top like a brand.