“Rabbi Yoel Grub, rabbinical counselor, fourth floor, number fifteen,” Leah read out loud from the building directory on the distempered wall.

Rabbinical counselor? Leah raised her brows. The word psychologist was nowhere to be found. But given the stigma of such things in Boro Park, she thought she understood.

“Okay, let’s go.”

But Shaindele didn’t immediately follow her to the elevator.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Maybe this is not a good idea.”

Leah was stumped. “But, honey, I thought we agreed that this way you can finish school, go to seminary, start teaching. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Avadeh. But this place…” She rolled her eyes.

Leah couldn’t disagree. In fact, she was getting the same feeling. It just didn’t look very professional. “But it’s not the place that’s important, honey, it’s the person. Maybe this is all he can afford. Fancy offices come with fancy prices, and most of the girls he treats are from our kind of families.” Not that this was going to be free, mind you. She shuddered to think how the family was going to manage the hundreds of dollars this was going to cost. But as Yaakov said, nothing was more important than the welfare of the children. Besides, the alternative was going to destroy any chance this young girl had of moving forward in life. It was unthinkable.

Shaindele nodded, unconvinced. She pressed the button on the elevator in the dingy lobby. But Leah hesitated. “They said to use the service elevator,” Leah told her, reading the signs that indicated it was in the back of the building.

“Why?”

Leah shrugged. It seemed odd to her, too.

They opened the heavy, old elevator door and entered. Thick, musty carpets lined the inside, giving off the acrid smell of a long-abandoned factory. They walked out into a dark and deserted hallway that stank of dust and despair. Most of the doors were boarded up, they saw, the entrance obviously being from the other side. Shaindele walked ahead quickly.

“Here.”

A small hand-lettered sign with the number fifteen—the number they’d been given when they’d made the appointment—was the only indication they’d arrived at their destination. While Leah hadn’t thought anything about it at the time, now she wondered. Why was there no normal professional office sign indicating Dr. Yoel Grub or Rabbi Dr. Yoel Grub? It just looked so disreputable, like some secretive criminal enterprise selling stolen goods or hash. A chill went through her.

“I’ll come in with you and wait.”

“No! I mean, thank you, Leah, but I don’t want. I’m not a baby.”

“I know. Of course. But maybe just this first time?”

Although Yaakov had thoroughly checked out Yoel Grub’s references, Leah still wanted to look him over.

But Shaindele was adamant. “I can take care of myself.” Then she softened. “But thank you, Leah. For everything.”