![]() ![]() Oleta pursed her lips, making the lines around her mouth more prominent. What kind of doctor are you? That medicine don’t work. ![]() Her hands trembled, and she tried to hide it by wringing them. Her gaze was frozen on some invisible point on the floor. There would be a few more questions, a few more attempts at hedging the issue before they got to the meat of the situation. She and Oleta always started out this way. The leather chair groaned as she leaned back and continued to observe her client. Instead of responding, Dr. Tonya Preston smiled softly. You heard this story how many times now? Ain’t you tired of it? Thanks to Ylva and Jove Belle who helped to make this happen. To my mother, I know you tried to teach me well, and it worked for the most part. To MB, who always gives me the truth whether I like it or not you are way too perky to exist. To my Michelle, I may not be a romantic in real life, but loving you has opened my mind creatively. ![]()
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