"Hello, Psychiatry Department 3102... Yes, this is he."
Schiller picked up the phone and listened to the person on the other end. Everyone's eyes focused on him. Then they heard Schiller let out a heavy sigh. "You mean there's a family member in the ICU who broke down crying after her relative died and refuses to leave the bedside, and you want us to provide emergency psychological intervention?"
Several young interns stood up. They knew work had come in. This kind of job was relatively easy, and they would not need to go through disinfection procedures or change clothes. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could return. Tasks assigned by their supervisor also counted toward supervised hours. It was considered a pretty good assignment.
Then they heard Schiller say flatly, "Ma'am, if I may ask, would you be sad if your father died?... Of course you would. We all would. So now you want me to make a poor girl whose biological father died three minutes ago happily skip out of the ICU?"
"Being sad over the death of a loved one is a normal emotion, not an illness. If she's occupying a bed, call security. If you don't want to treat her that roughly, then go persuade her and make her a hot cup of coffee."
"Of course not. Psychiatry Department jurisdiction covers the human brain. Everything below the cerebellum, including the mouth, is outside our jurisdiction, so you'll have to do the persuading yourselves."
With that, Schiller hung up. The interns looked at one another, then eventually sat back down.
Charles frowned slightly. His telepathy had already located the woman who had cried herself into a breakdown. She had fainted from crying and was being carried away. Heavy grief lingered throughout the corridor.
"Um... shouldn't we, I