[She had thought as much. One fingertip idly drums the tabletop as she casts a look at the microwave's clock, debating with herself about how much free time she really has before she'll need to head to work for the afternoon.

The problem with Lazarus has always been that, in order to make any progress with him whatsoever, more invasive methods than a clinical visit could provide needed to be used. And, frankly, if Glen, Virginia, or ANYONE were to know she had been visiting him in his apartment to cater to his own comfort rather than simply having let him go as a patient as she'd told them she had...well...]

Do you think you might be able to meet me at the bus stop outside of the plaza I work out of?