Page 7 of Deja Who
“Alice, you nasty fucking bitch!”
“Mmm. Listen, while you’re slogging through the justice system, you should return for a follow-up.”
“Follow-up!” Chart #6116 yowled all the way out of the office and down the hall, promising grisly death, arson, murdered family pets, and, worst of all, a lawsuit.
“See?” the receptionist said. Patients being led away, raving and occasionally handcuffed, was nothing new. “You’re the worst. Toldja.”
“Notnow, Deb. Listen, your court-appointed therapist will give you another referral for follow-up—”
“You can follow up with my ass!”
Leah trailed after the cops as they dragged her snarling client to the hoosegow, step one of what would hopefully be adecades-long legal process. “Don’t worry about a thing. It’ll all be covered by your insurance. Less your co-pay, of course.”
Patient advised to return within sixty days for routine follow-up. Thank you for the opportunity to treat Ms. Delano.Ms. Dellen.
Oh, hell, what was her name again? Delaney.
Report filed CC. INS ID# 29682.
