Lance rubs his bloody knuckles and looks out the window at the black helicopter in the air. He watches until it becomes a small speck on the horizon, then he turns to glare at Leonie. She’s huddled over in a waiting room chair. Her shoulders shake violently and Florence stands behind her, stroking her long blonde hair.
Slowly, Leonie looks up. Black streaks of mascara drip down her cheeks and her eyes are red from crying. She looks at Lance with a miserable expression, but she doesn’t dare to speak. Lance turns to leave, gesturing for Robert to follow.
“Wait, Lance, it’s not what it looks like,” Leonie shouts.
Lance pauses in the doorway and says, “Robert, arrange another test. I’m tired of having this conversation with her.”
Leonie’s entire face lights up. She wipes her tears away
