Ava’s POV
By Friday afternoon, I'd already been sneezed on twice.
Called mean by a six-year-old.
And I promised a four-year-old that Dr. Patel was not secretly planning to cut off his arm.
“It’s an ear infection,” I told him.
He clutched his arm tighter against his chest.
“You don't know.”
His mother covered her mouth.
I nodded solemnly.
“You're right. Better keep an eye on him.”
Dr. Patel looked at me from across the exam room.
“Thank you, Ava.”
“Anytime.”
The little boy pointed at him.
“I’m watching you.”
Dr. Patel sighed.
I escaped before I started laughing.
Danielle was waiting at the nurses' station.
“You're a terrible nurse.”
“He likes me.”
“He thinks Dr. Patel wants his arm.”
“I told him it was unlikely.”
Maggie looked up from her computer.
“Unlikely?”
“Never
