by my steady voice.
“Dr. Chen,” I said. “I need a lawyer. And I need one today.”Chapter Six: Gloria
Gloria Nakamura appeared at 5:20 that evening, tiny and about sixty, with cropped gray hair and bright red glasses. Her trench coat was soaked; she carried a laptop bag and a wind-damaged umbrella.
“Mrs. Davis,” she said, shaking my hand very gently, so as not to bump the IV. “Dr. Chen told me about your afternoon. I’m so sorry.”
“Are you expensive?” I asked.
She laughed. “Very. But Dr.