Natalie arrived for her shift, somewhat glad to return to the familiar environs of the clinic. She'd been called away for a quick consult on an investigation -- a second opinion on a dead body, as it were -- and found herself embroiled in Community politics. As if it was her fault the local golden boy was a messy eater
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"Lana?" she asked quietly.
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"I don't know. He won't talk to me. Keeps saying he's fine." She sighed. "I said I'd wait until he was ready to talk."
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She shifted uncomfortably in the bed. "I feel like I'm all bruised as well. So... what happened after I got knocked out?"
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