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CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

I don’t know how I’ll feel when the door opens and I glimpse her face.

I could turn around right now and walk away. I could claim I’m overbooked—that I have too many cases vying for my time.

But then I’d be lying to myself.

I shake out my hands and do a few neck rolls, trying to force some looseness into my body. Then I close my eyes and think of the new touchstone in my life, the one that gives me strength and shapes my new determination: Rose’s arms around my neck, and her whispered thank you in my ear.

I grab the brass knocker and rap it twice.

The office door opens, and there she is, her hair shorter than when I last saw her but her expression as welcoming as I remember.

“Hi, Stella.”

My old therapist, Chelsea, steps to the side, clearing the way for me to enter her office.

I take a deep breath and walk in.