DEACON
I tried to let it go. I intentionally avoided going past Emma's office after I left Angela Spencer's room; I made the rounds to see my other patients, focusing on the real issues and worries that they were facing. Shortly before the end of the day, I met with a man who had just been admitted for his initial treatment for pancreatic cancer. George Brewer was understandably nervous, worried about both his prognosis and his treatment. I was in the middle of reassuring him when Emma knocked on the door.
"Oh." She looked momentarily nonplussed when she spotted me sitting in a chair near Mr. Brewer's bed. "I'm sorry, Dea-Dr. Girard. I didn't realize you were in here. I can come back."
"No, that's all right." I could be magnanimous, I decided. I had to be professional, after all; I di
