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course, Dr. Harrison had called yesterday, just after I got home from the group to inform me that my other tests had come back normal.
    He told me that he wasn’t sure my heart was the problem, but he wasn’t ready to rule it out. I was supposed to go back in for another battery of tests on Friday. Deep down, I knew that those tests would come back with the same results as the earlier ones. And then I’d be back right where I started. With no answers and the constant gnaw of unresolved anxiety.
    I had gone straight to bed with one of the worst headaches I could ever remember experiencing. I had slept on and off the rest of the evening and had to force myself out of bed the following morning.
    I was feeling sluggish and lacking energy. The dull ache in my head threatened to explode once again into full-blown agony.
    I was exhausted. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.
    “Can I have one of those?” Krista, our cute part-time helper asked, reaching between Adam and me to snatch a fry from his plate. I raised my eyebrows in surprise that she would be so forward. Normally Adam’s I’ll-murder-you-in-your-sleep personality dissuaded people from talking to or even looking at him.
    I was even more surprised when Adam didn’t rip her hand off and feed it to the raccoons that ate out of the trash in the alleyway.
    “Is it all right if I go take a break? I need to run an errand,” Krista asked. Was she looking at Adam? Did I really just see her brush up against him? Adam didn’t respond to her in any way so I was pretty sure I had imagined the whole thing.
    “Yeah, go ahead. It’s pretty slow today, so you can just call it a day,” I said, poking my salad with my fork.
    “I don’t mind coming back—”
    “Go ahead and head home, Krista. We don’t need you today,” Adam barked.
    Krista flushed red and lowered her eyes. “Oh, okay then.” She grabbed her purse from behind the counter and scampered off.
    I waited until she left and gave Adam a reprimanding look. “A little harsh with the employees, aren’t you?”
    Adam shrugged but didn’t respond. His communication style could best be described as scary with a side of I-don’t-give-a-fuck.
    “Incoming. It’s your turn,” Adam muttered as a woman hurried across the store toward us.
    “You suck,” I hissed under my breath as Adam slid off the stool and disappeared into the office.
    “I’m so sorry,” a frazzled mother said, handing me a broken teapot that her son, who had clearly been raised by wolves, had knocked off the shelf. Normally I would have let it go as an accident. Kids were kids after all. But I had seen the mini-monster in question purposefully throw it on the floor.
    I took it while biting my lip so hard I was pretty sure I drew blood. “You’ll have to pay for this though,” I informed her, pointing to the sign Adam had insisted we post by the cash register: YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT.
    I had argued that the notice was rude but now I was extremely glad that he made me hang it up. Because I had a feeling these devil children were going to destroy half of our inventory.
    “I understand. I’m just so sorry. You know what they say about the terrible twos,” she laughed, pulling out her wallet and handing me her credit card.
    I forced a smile and pretended to understand what she was talking about. Wishing I could tell her that I didn’t think the terrible twos was the source of her child’s problems.
    But I liked having customers. Verbally berating their parenting skills wouldn’t endear me to the clientele.
    I processed her credit card and dumped the remains of the teapot in the garbage.
    Twenty minutes later—and after Adam deemed it safe to leave the office—we were cleaning up the mess left behind by the band of misfit children. After I disposed of the pile of broken ceramics, my phone began to ring from the front of the store. Thinking it could be Dr. Harrison’s office, I hurried to answer it.
    “Hello?”
    “We need to have