Dr. Chase—or Joanna, as she prefers to be called—says as she twirls a pen in her hand. The woman is entirely too perceptive. I could utter just a few words, and she is able to put a picture together that is too close for comfort at times. I can see why Lucian likes her, though. Her casual form of therapy is surprisingly relaxing. Sure, we’ve had some tough conversations, but I always feel better afterward. I’ve come to think of her as the type of mother figure I always wanted. I’d never confided in either of my parents. They didn’t want to hear about school, boys, or arguments with friends. To them, I left home to get an education and anything else was a silly waste of time. Unless it was an affiliation beneficial to furthering their social connections. I try but am unable to completely keep a smile from my face. I suspect I’m blushing as well but hope she won’t notice in the dim lamplight that she favors. “I’m enjoying being back at work,”
