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months. A year. Probably longer—it could be years.”
“You have six weeks.”
Stephanie drew herself up and crossed her arms. “I am the manager of this unit, and I simply
cannot allow—”
“I am clinical director of the Grove. This is my decision, not yours. I take full responsibility for
any injuries incurred upon our long-suffering therapist here,” Diomedes said, winking at me. Stephanie didn’t say anything further. She glared at Diomedes, then at me. She turned and walked
out.
“Oh, dear,” Diomedes said. “You appear to have made an enemy of Stephanie. How unfortunate.”
He shared a smile with Indira, then gave me a serious look. “Six weeks. Under my supervision. Understand?”
I agreed—I had no choice but to agree. “Six weeks.”
“Good.”
Christian stood up, visibly annoyed. “Alicia won’t talk in six weeks, or sixty years. You’re
wasting your time.”
He walked out. I wondered why Christian was so positive I would fail. But it made me even more determined to succeed.