I sat in the waiting room with one leg crossed over the other, my phone resting loosely in my hand as I stared at the screen for the third time in the last minute. Still nothing from Carrie. No new messages, no half-assed "?" or passive-aggressive emoji. Guess she actually listened when I told her to take a break from everything. Good for her. Or maybe she was just pissed enough to actually go silent. Either way, the quiet was loud.
Chase Belling's office door stood right in front of me, closed, sterile-looking, the little plaque beside it catching the fluorescent light. Beside me sat a man I didn't know, maybe mid-thirties, decent jacket, nervous posture, hands clasped like he was praying for good news or bad news to hurry up and get over with. We'd been sitting like this for fifteen minutes now. Too long. Appointments with Chase usually didn't drag unless something was off, or unless the patient just wouldn't shut up.
