“Same thing,” I said. “What was diplomatic about blocking my number? Leaving me out of that catch-up meeting?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

I hit the table.

“Don’t bully me, Victoria. Don’t throw your power around.”

“I hit a table. No forcefield strength, or there wouldn’t be a table anymore.”

“Don’t bully me, with physical violence or with your power, or I walk out of this room. Same rule as the hospital. At this stage, it would permanently affect our relationship.”

“At this stage, doing nothing would permanently affect our relationship,” I said.

“There are two possible realities here, Victoria. Two,” she said. She was trying to be stern, but she wasn’t good at it. She didn’t maintain eye contact. The hand she raised to gesture with, two fingers extended, wasn’t rock steady.

“What realities?”

“I shouldn’t even be telling you this. But the possibilities are that you’re in the right here, something’s wrong on my end, and I need you to be patient and trust me while I work my way through it. The meeting with Breakthrough was me trying to gracefully do that without hurting anyone.”

“And the other?”

“That right this moment, you know full well why I’m wary. And I need to talk to Breakthrough to figure out what’s going on.”

“You think I’m up to something.”

“I have ample evidence to suggest you’re up to something,” Jessica said. And with that, she did meet my eyes with some conviction.

“If I was, would I have cooperated this far? Would I have let you talk to them without trying to worm my way in?”

“It’s a point in your favor that you didn’t,” Jessica said. “But it’s far from a guarantee. I have to protect my patients.”

I walked along the table in the center of the room.

I saw how, as I moved left, Jessica moved a fraction to her right. Keeping more of the table between us.

“Evidence?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not? I’m accused of something horrible, apparently, but I can’t see what it is? Is it a witness?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“It’s been three weeks, this is apparently enough to change your opinion of me entirely. If it’s that effective or that cut and dry, what’s going to change if you show me or if you wait another…”

I floundered. Jessica was silent.

“Week? Another three weeks? Two months? Is this going to change, or…”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Can you give me a foothold here? Some person I can talk to that’s neutral, or some timeframe? So I don’t have this hanging over my head forever?”