Gretel was seated at the brushed-chrome bar, reviewing the chef's specials for the evening and mentally gearing up for the onslaught that would begin as soon as the doors opened at five-thirty. When her cell phone vibrated, she glanced at the caller ID and, with a sense of dread, answered. "Hello, Kyla? Where are you? I've been trying to reach you all day, how's your gramps? I heard on the news that you managed to sneak past the media to be with him at the hospital."
"He's fine. I hope I'm not disturbing, I know you're busy."
"Never mind. Are you still at the hospital? Do you need a ride?"
"We left already. I brought him elsewhere to see what our options are in terms of further treatment."
"The doctor suggested his transfer to another hospital?"
"No. We're not in another hospital, Gretel."
"What?" Gretel shrieked on the other end. "What are you doing, Kyla, where else is better for his condition than a hospital?"
