Bennett is in with an emergency root canal,” Paige said, leaning against the doorframe and tapping her right foot on the tile.

“She said she’ll meet you in here at four fifteen.”

“That gives me twenty minutes,” I said, setting my purse on the desk.

“A delivery driver dropped off an envelope from the florist ten minutes ago,” Paige said, handing me a thick manila packet.

“It was addressed to the clinic manager, so I signed for it.”

I slid my finger under the flap and pulled out what was inside.

It was a receipt confirming the canceled fourteen-hundred-dollar floral order, along with a printed copy of the cashed refund check from the flower shop.