CHAPTER 30
A CRY FOR HELP
Two days later, after grabbing her favourite cappuccino from the usual local cafe, Liz rested her hands in her lap and listened to a young lady at her desk at work. The client named Anne sat, cowering in her chair with quaking hands. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair was dry and dishevelled around a pale and gaunt face, and she appeared malnourished. Her lips trembled, and with each passing minute, she turned to look over her shoulder as if expecting someone to be there. She jolted at the sounds of footsteps and doors closing and gasped at the questions Liz asked. She didn’t offer much detail about her history. Anne was eighteen years old and wanted help with substance abuse in order to regain custody of her daughter. Gabriella looked on with a keen eye and took
