He looked at me for about three seconds.

Then he stood up and said, “All right,” and thanked me, and walked out to the front and put his hand on Zaya’s shoulder and took her home without scheduling the X-ray.

Denise came into my office ten minutes later and shut the door, which she does approximately twice a year.

“What did you say to that man?”

“I told him his daughter needs imaging.”

“He’s been in the parking lot since twelve-fifteen.” Denise’s voice was flat. “I watched him out the window. He sat in the truck for forty minutes with his phone doing something on a calculator. He came in, he waited, he took her in to you, and now he’s gone and he didn’t book anything.”