Chapter 115 Ambrose

• A soft knock echoes through my office. I lean back in my desk chair and rub a hand over my jaw, my trimmed beard bristling under my palm.
• Gardenia's been coming to me for several weeks now, and though I quickly learned to recognize her knock, I still find it jarring. She's so vibrant, so bright and bubbly and alive, and yet her knock is downright timid.
• It's yet another unanswered question about her. No other patient has ever driven to distraction with wondering like she does.