A tentative knock sounded at the door. “Come in!” Sheila called. The door swung open slowly, revealing a young woman not much older than myself or Sheila. She was well dressed, but her face was gaunt & her eyes were wide with worry.
“Ms. Sheila Fenson?” she asked reproachfully. Sheila nodded, rising from her chair.
“Yes yes, come in & have a seat.” She’d put on this cool, easy genial demeanor so quickly.
The young woman perched herself on the couch, then glanced nervously at me.
“This is my roommate & colleague, James Watt,” Sheila introduced, not looking up from a stack of papers. Colleague? I thought. She barely knows me! “You may say anything before him that you say before me.” She sat back in her Mottville chair, clasped her hands together, & took a deep breath. She look so laid back, it shocked me to think that this was the same person who’d figured me out by glancing at me.
“Now, please begin your story.”
The woman cleared her throat. “My name’s Jenna Hawking, & I have a pretty crazy problem.”