Mary breezes into her clinic and announces a good morning to the receptionist. The receptionist, of course, hands Mary a basket that arrived for her. "Someone special," she smiles. Mary gives the saintly smile and says, "A girl from my unwed mothers group. She's thanking me for convincing her to move back in with her parents." She read all of that in like, three seconds. "Nice save," the receptionist smiles. "Thank you," Mary says. What a beautiful fucking person. Mary's boss walks up and says, "You've got three teenagers. I need your help on a new case." At first I had no idea what this meant, until I realized she was talking about Mary's three kids. Like all of a sudden a real live teenager showed up at the teen clinic, and these guys are all panicking. She tells Mary this new case "...is a tough one," and Mary puts on her "I'm so ready for tough cases" face. The boss walks through a room full of people and openly discusses this case. She explains that it's a high school student. A girl. She donated blood last month and just got a letter in the mail three days ago from the Red Cross telling her that she's HIV positive. "Oh, God. She must be terrified," Mary says, as if the teen girl had just heard that Marshall Screechdale was thinking about asking her to prom. The boss says that the girl is "overwhelmed," and that she hasn't told anyone. Mary juts into her sway-back mode and asks what she should do. "Help me to give her hope," the boss says. "In these cases the hardest part of the situation is to assure a kid like this that she hasn't been handed a death sentence." The boss asks if Mary is ready. "Absolutely," Mary says, because this really is no big deal at all for her. The boss walks Mary to the other side of the cubicle wall to meet the girl. The girl's head is down. She lifts her head. It's Ferret. The oboe reaches its peak as Mary exhales and says, "Amy?" Ferret thinks, "Shit. The one person I wanted to make sure never knew. Now she's gonna try and run my life." Mary stares at Amy as if she's never heard of these things called "teenagers" before, and certainly not ones that have "diseases." The oboe can't stop the music. Fade to white as my wine glass shatters.