“But that’s impossible.” I said.
I flinched as the parking lot attendant slammed a long row of carts into their container behind me with a “ka-cham”.
“The good news is, he may have a long life ahead of him if he’s otherwise healthy. Not only that, but given our past conversations about your need for relief, it may come sooner than you think. I’d still like to schedule an evaluation for your father. He’d benefit from our services and programs, and qualify for psychiatric assessment given his feigned diagnosis.” She kept talking, but it all came through like the adult voices in a Charlie Brown cartoon, muffled and indistinct.
I swiped a hand across my forehead, wiping the sweat off. My tone grew even less certain. “But why is he so thin? He even lost his hair in the most recent round of c
