“Emery?”

Hazard’s head jerked up once.

“Come in, please.”

Hazard grabbed Somers’s hand, stood, and tugged.

“I don’t think—” Somers said.

“One more fucking word,” Hazard growled.

Somers gave the woman a smile and let Hazard drag him into the office proper. They shook hands as Pauline Dell introduced herself, and then Somers and Hazard sat together on a couch, while Pauline took an armchair at an angle to them. The office replicated the décor of the waiting room, but a bit more subdued—less to draw the eye, less to distract.

“Is that lavender?” Hazard said, scenting the air.

“Yes,” Pauline said. “Does it bother you? I can turn off the diffuser.”

“Is that a tactic to make me relax? Studies have shown that—”

Somers squeezed his hand.

Pauline straightened her skirt and then looked at them again. She was solidly built with a short bob of hair that was almost completely white. Her eyes were muddy blue and moved from Somers to Hazard to Somers again.

“I’m glad you could both come,” Pauline said. “I understand we’re working on post-traumatic stress disorder, but usually the goal with one of these intake appointments is just to get to know each other.”

Hazard’s eyebrows shot up. “All right. We’re going.”

Somers dragged on his arm to keep Hazard from rising.

“This is the same shit all over again,” Hazard said to him in a fierce, low voice. “She’s going to want to talk about my dad and think this is all because I didn’t get breast fed enough as a child or whatever bullshit is making the rounds these days.”

“For a smart guy,” Somers muttered, “you are very stupid sometimes.”

“Excuse me?”

“Why don’t you ask her what she wants to know?”

“What do you want to know?” Hazard snapped.

Pauline’s serene expression hadn’t changed. “I want to know if we’re going to work well together. Therapy only really works if there’s a strong, healthy relationship between client and therapist—in other words, you have to trust me. So I like to ask a few questions, just to get a feel for your expectations of a therapist and how you build healthy interactions with the people around you.”

“She wants to have a relationship with me,” Hazard growled to Somers.

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Somers said, eyes turned to the ceiling. “Deliver me.”

“Mostly, though,” Pauline said with a hint of a smile, “this is an opportunity for you to ask me questions.”

“What’s your training?” Hazard said.

“I studied at UNC-Chapel Hill, and I did a fellowship at McLean Hospital in Boston.”

“Why do you live in the asshole of the Midwest?”

Somers groaned.

Pauline, on the other hand, just belted out a laugh. “Local girl. Grew up in Osage Beach.”

“Give three examples,” Hazard said, “of people you’ve helped.”

“You know I can’t get too specific,” Pauline said, “and I can’t name names, but I’ve worked with several soldiers from the region.”

“Which war?”

“Your pick,” Pauline said, adjusting herself in the seat. “Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan. I even worked with a trauma nurse from the Korean War.”