Necrosis.
A body subject to disease.
“Wow, this doctor’s office is so elegant,” Bella’s squeaky voice broke the silence.
“Look at this sofa, Mark. It’s real leather. The doctor must be rich—not like that guy at the county clinic yesterday.”
“Quiet. Don’t be so cheap,” Mark chided, breathing heavily.
“Of course it’s elegant. This is a top-notch hospital. I told you I have solid connections here.”
“The branch manager probably agreed to take me in because he knows who I am.”
I suppressed a bitter laugh.
He was still bluffing.
Who did he think he was?
For president?
For an oil tycoon?
For a bankrupt begging for his life.
The chair creaked loudly.
Mark sank into the chair in front of Leo’s desk.
Leo sat there quietly.
A medical mask covered half of his face.
He was wearing reading glasses.
He looked completely professional and detached.
“Good morning,” Leo greeted.
He didn’t look Mark in the eye, instead focusing on the briefcase he was holding in his hands.
“Good morning, Doctor,” Mark replied in a familiar tone.
“I’m Mark Peterson—a referral patient who caused a bit of a stir downstairs. You know how it is, doctor.”
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