>>20433366Later, in the morning, in the Clark family's luxury mansion back in York Mills, Dr. Alfred Clark has finished going over his case notes and sending the 20 or 30 most urgent e-mail responses. He had skipped dinner, and now breakfast as well, much to Shameem's protests; in times of great stress, the spices and tomato prevalent in many of her dishes didn't agree with his digestion. Thinking next of Andreya, he looks up the number for the WWA corporate offices. But before he can make the phone call, his wife, Shameem, enters the room. Setting the matter of the call aside for now, he stands up to greet her.
>"Shameem. Hello, dear. You look troubled.""Alfie, darling, you haven't eaten or been to bed YET." Shameem says, with some concern. "I'm worried about you. Don't you think you should rest?"
>"No, I have much to do, dear. Much to do. I have a phone call or two to make for Andreya. Then one to the lawyer. Then I need to schedule all of Andreya's tests, move them to the highest priority, and when there's time speak with her again myself. I've failed her TERRIBLY, Shameem. We both have, if I may be blunt."Shameem frowns. "Phone call the lawyer? What ever for?"
>"I never should have taken her out of the will."He frowns at Shameem.
>"Frankly, you never should have recommended it, and I never should have listened when you did. Whatever scandal she may call down upon our heads, whatever concerns that we may have that she'll waste any largesse she's given on drugs and frivolities, THAT'S MY DAUGHTER. I love her for who she IS, not for her failure to be what I assumed she'd be, and I need to start treating her that way. And if you have anything like the same feelings, so do you." 