Jessica crossed the waiting room like she was walking into a storm.
Not fast.
Not panicked.
Measured __ because she could feel the system now.
It was everywhere. In the hum of fluorescent lights. In the patient silence.
In the way the intake board glowed like a throat preparing to speak.
And in the woman in the corner.
Mid-thirties, maybe. Dark hair tucked behind one ear. Hands folded so
tightly in her lap her knuckles looked pale. She wore a denim jacket with a
broken zipper and sneakers that still had damp grit on the soles, like she'd
run through a parking lot in a hurry.
She sat alone.
No phone.
No purse.
No companion.
Just waiting.
Jessica felt the time like a pulse under her skin.
Six minutes.
It wasn't a number floating in her mind. It was a sensation __ an approa
