DEACON
"Do you think Angela was ready to go home?"
Emma had developed a habit over the past couple of months of appearing at my office door, usually toward the end of the day, and launching into a topic with little to no preamble. She'd loiter there in the doorway, alternately arguing with me, agreeing or listening, until I'd roll my eyes and say, "For God's sake, Emma, come in and sit down."
Now, I glanced up at her from my computer screen. "Yes, I do. That's why I signed the orders releasing her. It's kind of my process. I try to do everything medically possible for my patients, and then I let them go home. Apparently, if you try to keep them, it's something called kidnapping."
She huffed out a sigh. "You know what I mean, Deacon."
"Hmmm." I lifted one shoulder. "I'm not sure I d
