He went to the vent and smoked alone.
By the time he had smoked his tenth cigarette, the psychiatrist finally opened the door.
Norris was still inside, Rufus went in and asked, "How is she doing?"
The psychiatrist frowned and shook his head gently at him.
"Worse than the last time?" Rufus asked with a grim expression.
The psychiatrist sighed, "Let her be hospitalized first."
Rufus took a drag of his cigarette, furrowing his brows, "Is it that serious?"
The psychiatrist looked helpless, "Keep her away from that man recently. And remember to give her the medication on time. You know, this kind of illness can only be treated with medication; as a psychiatrist, all I can do is provide counseling."
Rufus furrowed his brows and didn't say anything, then went to open the door.
Norris was still sitting there, her upper body leaning on the desk, her chin resting on her arm, while she played with the cactus the doctor had on his desk with her other hand.
