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The rest of the day and following morning I found it tough containing my emotions, especially wearing my therapist’s hat, since discovering the motive for Oliver Weddinghouse. I fought the urge to visit Toby and bring him up to date, but the news would be crushing if the fingerprints on the glass didn’t match Oliver’s. I was meeting Reggie for a beer this evening, but I didn’t know if I could wait that long. I felt like the elementary school child jabbing his arm into the air with an urgent need to go to the lavatory. Like the child, unable to wait any longer, I called Reggie, early afternoon. He wasn’t in.
Thankfully, there were no emergencies with my patients. There were some critical moments, things that I could handle, that kept me properly focused. However, as soon as the session
