“That’s the eighth victim of this particular brand of cold in the last two days. I think we’d better get ready for a streak.” Dr. Miranda Campbell scooped a hand through her thick blonde hair.
“Stock up on Kleenex and antibacterial wipes. Check.” Shelby Abbott, the clinic office manager, scribbled a note on her ever-present list.
“How are we on the peroxide wipes and spray?” Piper asked, repressing a smile at the incoming text from Myles: Prepping for staff meeting. Nerf dart gun or koosh balls?
Never a dull day around The Observer.
“Low.”
“Might want to add those, too,” Piper suggested, rather wishing they had time for horseplay at their own staff meetings. “We haven’t had a stomach bug in a couple of months. That always makes me nervous. It’s coming.”
“Fair point,” Shelby c
