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Chapter 98: Music therapy

DEACON

"Emma? Do you have a minute?" I stuck my head into our naturopath's small office. She was sitting at her desk, frowning at her desktop computer.

"Ummm . . ." She blinked at me as though disoriented. "Deacon. Did you need something?"

I smiled. "Sorry. You look like you're in the middle of a project. I'll come back."

"No!" She almost cried out the word, and I paused, stepping into the room. "I mean, you don't have to go. I was just reading reports of a new study on metastatic breast cancer and the use of phytochemicals."

"Ah." I nodded. "Mrs. Dulinkski?"

"Yeah." Emma pushed back from her desk and let out a long sigh. "I don't know why I bother, because when she sees me coming, she gets this look on her face . . . like I'm going to wrestle her to the ground and make her meditate or something. The first thing she always says to me is that she doesn't hold with all that spiritual crap." She rolled her eyes. "I could help her, Deacon. I really could. At the very least, I cou
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