The noisy and clamorous voices surrounded the hospital gate, like a swarm of locusts sweeping across the border during harvest time. They swarmed in, holding up microphones and using them as weapons to charge into battle.
"Mrs. Truffaut, is your son on the plane?"
"Mrs. Truffaut, when did you receive the news?"
"Mrs. Truffaut..."
Schaffhausen is a small town, covering only tens of square kilometers and with a small population. The only hospital in the town is not big, only five stories high. It has never received so many guests, and the stone slabs in front of the hospital entrance are almost broken by these guests.
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