It’s your license.” Vania’s voice had gone hard.

“And that’s not even the part that made me start calling lawyers.”

“What’s the part?”

“She’s been back three times in twenty hours.

And every single time, she asks the same question, and she asks it in a very calm voice, and she asks it of whoever is most junior in the room.” Vania paused.

“She asks whether the overdose is going to be fatal.

Not is he going to be all right. Not what are his chances. She wants a number.