Grayson didn’t correct her. He chuckled, that same condescending sound he used on telemarketers. “Don’t call us every five minutes like a lost dog. We’re not your taxi, old woman.”

Click.

The silence after was louder than the beeping of my monitor. I just sat there. My hands shook, not just from the anesthesia wearing off, but from something heavier, something final.

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