~ ROSELLE ~
I arrive at Dr. Morrison's office just in time, 9:00 a.m. on the dot.
As usual, she's seated in one of her elegant chairs, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, her gaze fixed on the computer screen in front of her.
The moment she notices me, her face lights up with a warm smile. I settle onto the comfortable couch across from her, and she smiles even wider.
"Morning, Roselle," she says, looking up with a warm smile. "You look brighter today. That's nice to see. So, how have things been since our last session?"
I take a slow breath and begin signing, hands moving steadily as I pour out everything—the visit to Westbrook, the confrontation with Warren, the fifty-percent share, the shower incident, waking up this morning feeling lighter... and the way my voice slippe
