When they got there they found her sitting prim and erect in her chair, a clipboard on her lap, her uniform crisp and pressed, not a spot on it, not a wrinkle un-ironed, not a button undone. If she were any more rigid she would have turned to stone. They all took their familiar seats and she crossed her legs and said, “Shall we begin?”
Shawn was still wearing his muzzle. He told them all that they let him take it off when he slept, but as long as he was around other people he was going to have to keep it on.
“Where’s Dr. Smythe?” he asked.
“Mr. Smythe is no longer with us.”
“Is it because I chewed off his eyeball?” Nurse Smith didn’t answer. He tried a different approach. “How are you going to run group? Aren’t you just a nurse?”
“I, Mr. King, am a registered nurse, yes.” He snorted.
