“Just doing my job.”
We stand there for a moment, and I realize I should say something. Something normal. Something that doesn’t make me sound like a complete jackass.
“I should go,” I finally manage.
“Of course.”
I nod and turn away.
Shenron is waiting in the hallway, and we walk toward the exit. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look at me. Just keeps his eyes on the floor and moves when I tell him to move.
Sally smiles at me when we pass her desk. “And?” she asks. “How did it go? Were you nice?”
“Yes.”
She giggles. “Did you smile?”
“No!” I growl.
She laughs. “That’s good. Stop growling and no more one-word answers.”
“Yes, Sally.” I look over at her, and she grins.
“Perfect. Have a nice day. We’ll see you a little later with the next one.”
I grunt.
“No grunting,” she shouts after me, laughing again.
I roll my eyes and shake my head as I push the door open.
One thing is for sure: after seeing Wren, I’ve decided she definitely won’t be my target. No way and no how.
7
Grim
I push open the door to the small staff break-room and head straight for the coffeemaker.
It’s early. The first patient of the day is busy getting vaccinated. I have a few minutes before I’m needed again. Might as well get some caffeine in my system.
I place my insulated travel tumbler on the counter. The thing is beat to hell, dented and scratched, but it keeps my coffee hot, so it’s perfect.
I grab the cream from the small fridge and set it beside my cup, then reach for the coffeepot.
The door opens behind me.
I glance over my shoulder and see one of the nurses walk in. It’s Autumn. I know her name because I checked yesterday after my failure to make any kind of connection with Emma. I took two patients to Autumn yesterday, watched her work, and tried to gauge if she might be approachable.
I didn’t try to be friendly with her because I wasn’t sure I could pull it off.
Last night, like a colossal idiot, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror for twenty minutes, practicing smiling. Then, I did it again this morning after brushing my teeth. The result was the same both times: I look like a serial killer trying to lure children into a van with promises of candy.
My smile is broken. Completely fucking broken, like the rest of me.
So I’ve decided on a new strategy. No smiling. Just being kind and helpful and asking questions. Sally said it has to be authentic, and there’s nothing authentic about my nightmare-inducing smile.
Autumn is petite, with black hair pulled back in a braid. She moves toward the cabinet where the mugs are kept, but I clear my throat before she gets there.
