Chapter 137

• Alexis sat on the rich leather couch in the therapist’s office, her hands clasped firmly together in her lap. She forced herself to breathe consistently, in spite of the fact that her heart felt like it might pound out of her chest.
• Dr. Whittaker, the specialist with silver hair and kind hazel eyes, sat over from her, a little notepad resting on his knee.
• “So,” he said tenderly, leaning forward just enough to appear he was listening. “What brings you here today?”