Find Julie. Miss: It's Clara, weeping.

You laugh as you leave the bus and head back up the stairs toward the hospital. The vision of Poppy's vulva lingers in your mind, her lips wet and parted after her orgasm on Charles' cock, her swollen labia framed by the fuzzy red tails of her bush. "Sorry, white girls don't turn me on," she'd said with a giggle. You lick your lips and swallow.

Julie. You should talk with her. It would be good to work together on your next assignment. You've known her as a solid nurse, and now you know her taste. You crave it. You understand why the Director of Nursing does too. But she's not on shift. You take your phone out to a little terrace garden and call her, but her personal phone goes to voicemail.

"Hi Julie, this is Gloria," you say. "I just talked with Poppy about the outreach team. I suppose I should catch up with Brenda and ask about the nursing interns and volunteers. Hoping to, ah, talk with you." You laugh. "What did you say after Jeannie told you they named the baby after me? Talk to you soon."

You put your phone away and hear a sniffling sob from the corner of the garden. The thick black hair, shoulder-length with bangs, the black, lace-trimmed blouse and skirt, isn't that...? She turns round. It's Clara, Gina's receptionist. Her bold make-up is tear-streaked.

"Clara?" you say.

She blinks her red-rimmed eyes at you and sniffles.

"Gina left," she says. "She won't take me with her, and I don't know what I'm going to do."

"But Clara, Gina had a wife," you say, remembering the picture on her desk. "You didn't expect...?"

"She said she would," Clara says.

Two-faced bitch, you think. Good riddance.

"Do you have any friends you can talk with?" you ask Clara.