While Weaver gapes at all this, Luka takes the time to ask Malarkey a bunch of questions he's not equipped to answer, because he has the mental capacity and spontaneous intellect of my living-room wall. Which is really a pretty damning insult to my living-room wall, and for that I apologize, old friend. Weaver, still reeling, decides to demand four weeks' notice the next time Luka wants to flee the country. "I'll give you better. I'll give you eight," he says. "Two months from now, I'll be gone again." Damn you, Luka. Damn you and your sense of duty. Whither the consideration for my loins? Weaver looks like she's had her cane rammed into her gut. She can't speak, so Luka chastises Malarkey during her silence, annoyed that he ordered an expensive CT for a patient before performing a complete exam. "To Africa?" Weaver finally squeaks. "For how long?" Luka shrugs, "I'll see when I get there." Sadly for her, Weaver's too understaffed to suggest that Luka take his job and shove it where the medicine fairy don't shine. She finally just demands it in writing so that they can draw up contracts. "You'll be answering to Dr. Romano," she adds. "Oh, then we'll definitely need to talk about a raise," Luka deadpans, allowing his lips to twitch into a smile once Weaver's stalked away.
In a private area, the social worker -- what happened to Adele? -- reads off two prior incidents: Paula left Henry alone and he burned himself; and she didn't pick him up from school. "My husband, Kyle, was supposed to do it," she insists, claiming that the other incident resulted from Henry's trying to make grilled cheese while she was at a job interview. The social worker tells her that this, combined with Susan's suspicion of alcohol abuse, means he's removing her kids and placing them with her husband until they can investigate the matter more deeply. Paula is gutted, and Susan looks guilty. "I'm not a bad mother," Paula begins to weep. "It's just for a little while, until you get back on your feet," Susan consoles her. Paula stammers out a story about how her lawyer had bought her a Bloody Mary at breakfast to celebrate the divorce papers, and Susan looks skeptical and pitying.