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I say nothing.

“Oh, it is definitely her.”

“She’s a patient.”

“Patients don’t usually send you pictures of beverages.”

“She was instructed to eat and hydrate.”

“By whom?”

I look at him.

He points at me. “Of course. You.”

“She came in on coffee.”

“She’s a medical student. That’s their natural habitat.”

“She’s pregnant.”

“And apparently drinking orange juice under protest.” He sits back, folding his arms. “This is already not normal.”

“It doesn’t need to be normal.”

“That’s the first honest thing you’ve said.”

I pick up the file again. “Alester asked me to come on formally as his family physician. He wanted oversight as the pregnancy progressed. Dr. Acharya is still handling the fertility side.”

“And you moved her monitoring here.”

“Yes.”

“Did you ask her first?”

“No.”

He closes his eyes. “Dalton.”

“The facility is better.”

“I’m sure it is. That doesn’t answer the question.”

“She was angry.”

“Good.”

I look up.

He shrugs. “I like her.”

“You barely know her.”

“I know she has better instincts than you in this situation.”

My phone buzzes again. I don’t look.

Marcus looks delighted. “Go on. Check it. I want to watch this happen.”