William waited for his phone to ring, but the expected call never came.
By rights, his product should have hooked Fermin.
He thought for a moment and called Fermin.
"Hi, Doctor William."
"Hi, this isn't Mr. Eaton, right?"
William's enthusiasm fizzled when he realized it wasn't Fermin.
"I'm his assistant."
"Where's your boss?"
"In a meeting. I'm afraid he's too busy to talk about your medicine."
William sensed a brush-off. "Has he tried the potion? It's legit for mental health issues."
It was perfect for Fermin's split personality. William didn't spell it out, but he figured Fermin knew his own deal.
The assistant chuckled. "Mr. Eaton asked me to tell you his condition was sorted out 20 years ago. No need to worry, Dr. William."
"What? 20 years ago? How didn't I know?" William was stunned.
"Also, Mr. Eaton said to check for a delivery when you get home."
"Delivery? What delivery?" William's gut twisted.
Fermin wouldn't send him health supplements. That wasn't his style.
He rambled until Marion got fed up.
Just then, Debra stepped out of the bathroom. "Who's crying?"
"Nobody," Marion said, hanging up.
William stared at his disconnected phone, gutted. He couldn't believe Marion ditched him just like that.
Three days later, William faced the Eatons in court. He lost.
The Eatons didn't demand money, just asked for a public apology and clarification that Fermin had no mental illness.
William fumed but complied.

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