My Brother Hid a Recording Module Beneath His Daughter’s Dining Chair
She doesn’t need to watch you make a scene.” He put the phone to his ear and turned away.
The guard unfolded his hands.
Thomas came through the ward doors at a quarter past one.
He had a clipboard tucked under one arm, and his glasses were already sliding down his nose.
“I’m sorry, Michael.
Hospital counsel called down.
I have to follow the order.”
“You signed her discharge papers this morning.”