“Even lawyers can occasionally be mistaken,” Dr. Wingate said with a smile. Dr. Carpenter nodded in agreement. “You are welcome to view your records. Why don’t you come with me and we’ll let you read over the whole thing. Maybe that will make you feel better.”

“Why wasn’t that opportunity offered to me originally?” Mrs. Ziegler said as tears began to stream down her face. “The first time I came here about my records, I told the receptionist I had serious questions about my condition. There was never any suggestion I would be allowed to read my records.”

“It was an oversight,” Dr. Wingate said. “I apologize for my staff if such an alternative wasn’t discussed. We’ll send around a memo to avoid future problems. Meanwhile, Dr. Carpenter will take you upstairs and let you read everything. Please.” He held out his hand.

Covering her eyes, Mrs. Ziegler allowed herself to be led from the room by Dr. Carpenter and the guard. Dr. Wingate turned to the people in the room. “The clinic would like to apologize for this little incident,” he said as he straightened his long white coat. A stethoscope was tucked into a pocket, several glass petri dishes in another. Turning to the receptionist, he asked her to please call housekeeping to clean up the mess on the floor.

Dr. Wingate walked over to Robert, who’d taken the handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit to dab at his split lip.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Dr. Wingate said as he eyed Robert’s wound. It was still bleeding, although it had slowed considerably. “I think you’d better come over to our emergency facility,” Dr. Wingate said.

“I’m okay,” Robert said. He rubbed his shoulder. “It’s not too bad.”

Marissa stepped over for a closer look at his lip. “I think you’d better have it looked at,” she said.

“You might even need a stitch. A butterfly, maybe,” Dr. Wingate said as he tipped Robert’s head back to get a better view of his lip. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

“I don’t believe this,” Robert said with disgust, looking at the bloodstains on his handkerchief.

“It won’t take long,” Marissa urged. “I’ll sign in and wait here.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Robert allowed himself to be led from the room.

Marissa watched the door close behind him. She could hardly blame Robert if this morning’s episode added to his reluctance to proceed with the infertility treatment.

Marissa was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of doubt about her fourth attempt at in-vitro fertilization. Why should she dare hope to do any better this time around? A feeling of utter futility was beginning to bear down on her.