DEACON
"Emma? Do you have a minute?" I stuck my head into our naturopath's small office. She was sitting at her desk, frowning at her desktop computer.
"Ummm . . ." She blinked at me as though disoriented. "Deacon. Did you need something?"
I smiled. "Sorry. You look like you're in the middle of a project. I'll come back."
"No!" She almost cried out the word, and I paused, stepping into the room. "I mean, you don't have to go. I was just reading reports of a new study on metastatic breast cancer and the use of phytochemicals."
"Ah." I nodded. "Mrs. Dulinkski?"
"Yeah." Emma pushed back from her desk and let out a long sigh. "I don't know why I bother, because when she sees me coming, she gets this look on her face . . . like I'm going to wrestle her to the ground and make her medit
