“So, you said Grace had something for me?” She looks directly at the envelope Cara’s clutching in front of her. “Is that it?” she asks, looking from Cara to me like a hassled teacher needing a quick answer.

“It’s from Grace,” Cara says, trying to smile at Dr. Rossi, who looks blankly back at her. “A thank-you card she made for you, for helping her and Meg.”

Dr. Rossi turns to me, her tone skeptical as she asks, “You drove all this way to give me a thank-you card?” I lift my shoulders, shrug, and Dr. Rossi’s eyes become small, glinting from me to Cara and back again as she says, “What do you know?”

Before I can think of the right way to respond, something that will make Dr. Rossi reveal why she’s so on edge, Cara jumps in.

“Nothing! I just thought you should have it, since Grace made it for you. She must have been grateful to you.”

“Well, I can’t think why. I was never Grace’s or Megan’s doctor; they saw a colleague of mine.” There’s something rehearsed about the doctor’s tone, as though she’s been practicing, reciting the sentence over and over.

Dr. Rossi holds out her hand towards Cara, waiting for the envelope, but Cara doesn’t move. Instead she says, “Grace wrote a note—she wanted to thank you for getting Meg a job.”

Dr. Rossi drops her outstretched hand.

“Ah, I interviewed her for a part-time admin role here. It must have been that.”

Why does she sound so relieved?

“We didn’t know Meg worked here,” Cara says.

“Only for a few months. It wasn’t worth my time training her up, to be honest.” Dr. Rossi glances at her watch. “Look, I said I only had a few minutes. I’m very sorry about what’s happened to your friends but I need to be getting back to my patients.”

Cara looks downhearted. This wasn’t the meeting she’d hoped for. “So why didn’t they send it to you years ago?” she asks, confused.

Dr. Rossi looks briefly up towards the heavy sky, exasperated, as though it’s Cara’s fault the clouds have gathered.

“I honestly have no idea, now please . . .” Dr. Rossi reaches for the envelope again and Cara slowly places it in her hand.

“Right,” Dr. Rossi says, like she’s rounding off an appointment with a patient. “Thank you.” She speaks curtly, glancing at me one last time. We watch as she walks quickly away, pausing only to open and read the card before she scrunches it into a ball and drops it into a trashcan.

“What a bitch,” Cara says, stalking after Dr. Rossi. I’m worried she’s going to charge into the office after her but instead Cara stops at the trashcan, takes out the card, and is straightening it out in her hands by the time I catch up.

“She’s a strange woman, Cara.”

“She’s a cow.”

Cara sounds more angry than hurt.

“I thought she’d be happy to have the card, that we’d chat a bit about Grace maybe. I never thought she wouldn’t give a shit, chuck it away. God, I feel like an idiot.”