C427 I will Treat All Kinds of Weird Things

Qi Ann glanced at the clock—it was just past five.

In April, five o'clock didn't mean pitch darkness, not yet. The operating room was bathed in bright light, and even with Gotham's penchant for gloom, outside it was only semi-dark. Full night—and the complacency it brought—was still a ways off.

There's an adage about the darkness before dawn being the hardest to endure. Truth be told