[Text → Delia] What? Delia, is there something wrong?
[Text → Mom] That’s the thing. I don’t know. Look, just promise me that you’ll take care of yourself and won’t work too hard, okay?
[Text → Delia] Honey, I’m a doctor. This is my job; I don’t get to choose when traumas come flooding through the ER.
[Text → Delia] Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m fine.
[Text → Delia] What brought this on, hmm?