18
The receptionist stepped back to allow Kira and Trevor to pass. The phone at her desk started to ring, sending her scurrying back to her post with a dull scuffle of her ballerina flats against the hardwood floor.
Kira slipped inside the office with Trevor on her heels. The smaller room displayed more of Kori’s design taste. The area closest to the door was clearly meant for meeting with her patients. A comfortable-looking charcoal couch faced a more official-looking chair that was upholstered in the same fabric.
White bookcases lined the wall, filled with thick books on psychology. Kori’s credentials and diploma hung beside the bookcases in matching, chrome frames. The wall opposite was dominated by tall windows that overlooked the downtown area. A French door leading out to the roof
