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Her daughter’s face flushed red. “Please withdraw the complaint,” she said quickly. Then she turned to me. “I’m sorry. Truly. I apologize for any trouble my mother caused.”
But it was something.
I finished the discharge instructions with her daughter present. My heart was still racing, but my voice stayed clear. Medications. Follow-up appointments. Warning signs. Everything professional. Everything steady.
No smirk.
No nickname.
When I handed her the paperwork, our eyes met for a moment.
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