Gemotions

He hadn't slept well the night before. *Robert Miller, LCSW.* The name, the face, the memories. All flooding back. The drive to the office was tense, his grip on the steering wheel tight.

He spent the first ten minutes pacing in front of the building, checking for any hidden cameras or anything out of the ordinary.

He scanned the room as he waited, calculating his movements, assessing every possible danger. He was wary, on guard. Each question, each word, he treated as a potential test. He had to be careful, he told himself, he had to be ready. He sat with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the therapist, waiting.