The doctor turned to face him, flushing. “And you, sir. Remarkable that you could manage such delicate healing through imitation. Very impressive. You should work in the hospital.” “So I’m told,” Ferron said with an insincere smile. “Do you think they’ll still hire me after I murdered someone in the lobby?” The man blanched. “Well—what I mean is—” “If there’s nothing else, I’ll see you out,” Ferron said, striding away.
