She huffed a soft breath. “I’ll think about it.”
I already knew that meant no.
Amber’s POV
Day drinking was probably not a great solution to any problem, especially one like this that involved guilt and life and death, yet here I was, sitting in my kitchen in the middle of the day, splitting a few bottles of wine with Anne and Noah.
They both had the day off too. At least that was what they said. I wasn’t certain if they hadn’t just called out. I supposed it didn’t matter. They knew what they were doing, and now we were all together in my kitchen, getting tipsy on wine.
“I know I did the right thing, honoring the patient’s request,” I said. This got easier to talk about, the more glasses of wine I had. “But that doesn’t make it easier. They act like I’m some unfeeling statue, able
