Blue Bottle From a Small Pharmacy Prompts a Search for Answers

her black gel pen tapping a rapid rhythm against the edge of her wooden desk organizer. Two elderly women from my church auxiliary sat in the vinyl chairs by the entrance, their coats still buttoned against the autumn chill.

“Regina, I need to see the clinic’s incoming mail logbook for September,” I said, keeping my voice low.

The tapping pen stopped continue reading …