“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sniffling softly. “You’re right. Maybe I am making a mountain out of a molehill.”
Tree squeezed Zakira’s hands. “Why don’t you go home and try to calm down. Malik will come clean with you, if there’s anything to tell.”
“You’re right,” she said, nodding as she absently smoothed her hands across Tree’s shoulders. “Lemme get out of here.” Tree stood and pushed his hands into the deep pockets of his trousers. As soon as the door closed behind Zakira, he was dialing Malik’s number.
“Doctor McNeil, I’ve got Doctor Douglass Burns on the line for you.”
“Thanks, Simone,” Dr. McNeil told his secretary. “Hey, Doug.”
“Sed, it’s been a long time.”
“I’ll say. I don’t hear from you every day,” Dr. McNeil told his old colleague,
Burns chuckled. “Well, I’m actually calling about one of your patients.”
McNeil frowned. “Which patient?”
“Malik Badu.”
“Malik Badu? How do you know him?”
“He called to get some information on our center here. He liked what he heard and plans on admitting himself.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
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