“So, I think it’s time.”
Dr. Bryant peered down at me, a wisp of cropped blonde hair sweeping over her stethoscope. Looking into the face I knew so well, I allowed myself to indulge in the comfort of familiarity, of tradition. I knew the sleek metal frame of the instrument and the peculiar way in which it wound around her jutting, Grecian neck. The cold, grey instrument had always struck me as fitting with the sterile white of her scrubs, yet contrasting with the children’s hospital teddy bear logo.
