"Relax," she said. "We have nineteen minutes left. Let me tell you how I met the last psychologist."
"They stop sleeping," she continued, cutting me off like I was a child. "They hear music at 3 AM. Music that isn't there. And they start writing letters. Long, beautiful letters… to me."
"No need," she called out sweetly. "We're just getting acquainted." TmwPOV - Sirena Milano - First meeting with a p...
I sat across from her, my heart drumming against my ribs. "I'm here to evaluate your mental state for the board."
She finally lifted her gaze. Her eyes were the color of a storm at sea—gray-green, with something churning underneath. A small smile tugged at her lips, but it didn't reach those eyes. "Relax," she said
Or maybe from her.
She tilted her head, studying me the way a cat studies a bird through glass. "Your first mistake was thinking this was an interview, Dr. Hale. This is a first meeting . And in every story about me… the first meeting is where the heroine realizes she's already trapped." "They hear music at 3 AM
Not once. Twice.