She waits. "The foundation."
Another pause. "Liam probably did something stupid."
She laughs.
"That's always a safe assumption, Annette. I've known him a long time."
"I'm sure."
The smile lingers before she asks quietly, "Did it occur to you that maybe...nothing had happened?"
I blink.
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe someone simply sent a text."
I stare at her.
"Not every notification is a crisis, Jamie."
"No."
She gives me a gentle smile. "But you treat each one like it might be."
"I never thought about it that way."
"I know."
She reaches for my chart. "Because you've spent years believing it's your job to prevent problems before they happen."
She writes one last note.
"The difficult part..." She closes the folder. "...is realizing the world keeps turning even when you don't."
***
I let that sit. No joke. No comeback.
I’m thinking about what she said.
Then Annette notices. She doesn't like ending heavy conversations on heavy notes.
She never has, so she claps her hands once.
"Okay."
I look up. "Enough philosophy."
"Thank goodness."
"You’ve suffered enough for one morning."
"My shoulder?"
She smiles innocently. "Your brain. But I guess you'll survive."
"I've survived worse."