Evie arrived on a Thursday.
She came through the bay doors with the annotated folder in one hand and a box of northern corridor community data in the other and the expression of someone who had been looking forward to this specific day for four months.
She stopped when she saw Hennen.
Hennen, who had sent her the sixty-one-case dataset six weeks ago.
They looked at each other across the ward.
"Dr. Hennen," Evie said.
"You're shorter than I expected," Hennen said.
Evie stared at her.
"The emails," Hennen said. "The precision of the documentation. I expected someone taller."
"I'm—" Evie looked at Nara.
"She means it as a compliment," Nara said. "Hennen considers precise documentation a quality that belongs to people of significant stature."
"I said what I said," Hennen said.
"I'm
