scrub jacket.
"So few things are."
Dayne stiffened. Dr. Mhya Jezick had come in while she was singing, and had managed to do it so quietly that Dayne hadn't even suspected someone else was in the room.
"Leave, please," she told the doctor. "There is nothing here you need to see."
"No. There isn't. I've seen this sort of thing forever, it seems. It is never any more fair or right than this." The doctor smiled at Dayne, a sly smile that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. "I didn't come in here to watch you work, however. I came in here to talk to you about something very important."
Dayne went back to giving her patient a bath. "This isn't a good time. I prefer to spend my time with my patients actually paying attention to them."
"He can't hear you sing. You might as well talk to me."
"I don't know that he can't hear me. I prefer to keep in mind the possibility that he can."
"Trust l