Upon leaving the hospital, Rufus Swallow placed the medication prescribed by the doctor for Norris Moore in the back seat.
With the car window open on the passenger side, Norris rested her face on her hand, a cigarette lit between her fingers, gazing out the window.
She had just seen a psychologist, appearing somewhat weary, her cold and exquisite brows showing a low mood.
"Hmm? What did the doctor say to you?" asked Rufus as he started the engine, gripping the steering wheel. "Has it gotten worse?"
"Still the same," she took a slow drag of her cigarette, exhaled out the window, and then laughed. "Just like before, how much worse could it get?"
Already severely depressed, there's a limit to how much worse it could get.
"But I see the doctor prescribed more medication than before."
