I'm sitting in my office that is lit by a couple of antique lamps with soft lighting. A teenage girl sits across from me on a plush seat with a tissue torn to bits in her hand. She tells her story to the floor or to the wall, and her shoulders show that she's all but given up. I jot down notes of what she says in my book, and the gears in my head are already turning to figure out a plan to help her.
My computer's screen is off, but it's running. Two quick beeps, three times in a row. My cellphone vibrates to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."
A glance at the clock gives me two minutes left in our session. I concentrate on the girl's words, take some notes, and lead her out of my office, booking an appointment for two weeks from now. Smile at the secretary and return to my office, closing and locking the door. Turn on my computer screen, sit in my chair, and answer my phone.
"Hello, Alchemy."
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