The oxygen was taken right out of my lungs as I stared at the man's face, and all I could do was stare. The performers in the images were not even SEALs; they were dressed in standard Army clothing. Nonetheless, my heart rate increased as I glanced down at the man who appeared to be my greatest friend.
"Derrick Hunter?" The receptionist summoned me from the depths of my own imagination.
I cleared my throat and shook my head. “Yes?”
"Dr. Emerson is available right now," she added. "Please come."
She pushed open the door and led me into a room with soft lighting and an even softer couch. I positioned myself uncomfortably between the throw cushions, not wanting to disturb anything. A box of Kleenex was alongside the couch on a table.
"She'll be right in," said the receptionist. "Just mak
