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Startled, Jamie looked away from the monitor and said, “Hang on. Lemme save this.”

A couple of seconds later, he asked, “Who is he?”

“You know I do a lot of pro bono work. A mother came to me via recommendation with her son. He had become really angry and closed off. It took him a long time to open up to me, but some of the things he told me about his time at his father’s house...”

Cora paused, disgust written all over her face. She took another deep breath and went on, “I had to report him. Long story short. He ended up being charged with a number of crimes, and I had to testify in court. My testimony helped send him to jail. His name is Warren Aimes.”

“Is there someone you can notify? Can you get some kind of restraining order?”

“I’ll call my contact at the D.A’s office tomorrow and see what can be done. Since he hasn’t been back in a few weeks, it may be more difficult to prove that he’s a threat. I’d rather be safe than sorry, though.”

Cora set aside the paperwork in her lap. Now that she had taken this not-so-awesome trip down memory lane, it wasn’t likely she was going to be able to focus.

“Me too,” he said, picking up one of her hands. As he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, he added, “I didn’t think about your job as being dangerous. It worries me.”

She gave his hand a squeeze and said, “It’s not, really. That odd incident aside, the most I ever get is yelled at.”

“Ah, so the very loud woman in the hallway this afternoon was yours?”

“All mine,” she confirmed, sighing. “Today really sucked, Jamie.”

“Aw, baby,” he said as he pulled her into his lap. “Come here. What’s wrong?”

She pulled back from where she had instinctively curled up against him and said, “No, no. I didn’t mean to interrupt your game. Go do your research.”

She attempted to move but he held her tight against him and said, “Uh-uh. My research is over for tonight. Let’s go lie down.”

It was kind of strange. For someone who spent her life talking about other people’s feelings, she wasn’t the best at talking about her own. Right now, her thoughts were a jumble, though. She needed to sort through them.

It seemed that he hadn’t forgotten the tried-and-true method to get her talking. Whenever she’d had a problem, they always ended up cuddled up with the lights low. There was something about the combination that relaxed her enough to talk about whatever was bothering her.

Together, they walked hand in hand toward the bedroom. Jamie dimmed the lights, turned on some soft music, and then curled up with her on top of the covers. Once she had settled against him, he rubbed a hand lazily down her back and said, “Talk to me.”

She smiled as the tension slowly left her body and asked, “You sure? This was literally the best part of my day right here.”

“Stop stalling,” he responded, brushing a kiss against her forehead.

Like a torrent, the words just flowed out her until she had nothing left to say. She talked about Rhiane in vague terms. She couldn’t really be specific without sharing way more than she should about her sister’s past.

One night about a year ago, Taryn had unleashed the whole story of her childhood after extracting the promise that it would never be discussed again.

When their parents died, Cora was adopted out and Taryn, the older of the two, ended up in foster care. Cora was incredibly lucky.

Taryn had been abused in every way imaginable. She hadn’t been able to shake the horrible images from her mind ever since. Normally, she talked to her sister when patients got to her, but this was something that she couldn’t share.

She hadn’t asked her for the story. She had been incredibly careful not to force any of the boundaries her sister set in that regard. She had suspected, but hearing the confirmation had been horrifying. She couldn’t be entirely sure why Taryn had decided to tell her. Cora suspected that she still struggled with it some, though. Especially in light of the fact that she had a daughter.

Moving back into the present, she moved on to Ian, the little boy from the afternoon with the anxiety and the angry mother. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. What was the point of taking your child to therapy if you were going to obstruct the process?

Finally, Warren Aimes. Cora knew that bringing back that particular memory had really been the straw that broke the camel’s back. She could still see the boy, shrunken down, terrified of his father. That case had been particularly nasty. And the look on the father’s face had been vacant. It was almost as if he didn’t have any feelings one way or another about the proceedings.

Eventually, when Cora had finally exhausted herself, Jamie spoke. “You chose a tough line of work. I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished. You take on the burdens of everyone that you talk to. It’s gotta be difficult to let some of that stuff go. If you need to talk, tell me. I hate that you feel like you have to bottle it up.”

“Usually I’m okay at processing it all, but today was especially bad because everything kind of hit at once,” Cora admitted.

“If you need to talk,” he repeated. “Just let me know. I don’t like it when you’re unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy. I was just a l

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