The officers exchanged glances, clearly reevaluating the situation. One of them, a younger officer with a sympathetic look, addressed Brenda. “Ma’am, perhaps it would be best to check with Dr. Monroe, given the circumstances.”

Brenda hesitated, her authority slipping away like sand through fingers. With no other option, she picked up the phone with a huff, muttering into the receiver. After a brief conversation, her face blanched. She hung up the phone and looked at Isabelle, the defiance in her eyes replaced with something akin to fear.

“Dr. Monroe says to take you in immediately,” Brenda admitted begrudgingly. Her tone had lost its earlier edge, replaced by a forced politeness. “Right this way, please.”