Kim walked into the diminutive waiting room with her Kate Spade bag clutched under her arm. I can do it this time. She tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear, replacing it with the other strays as she approached the sign-in desk.
“Hi,” she smiled and ducked her head, “I’m Kim Green. I have an appointment at 2:15 p.m. I’m a bit late, I know.”
The clerk rolled her eyes. “You’ve been here before. Walked out on grief counseling, right?”
“Yes,” Kim said, clearing her throat. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Have a seat,” the clerk huffed. “I’ll call you soon.”
Kim sat next to a man cleaning his glasses. He had on khakis that were far too short and a plaid button-down. She caught herself snickering at the sight of him. She stopped. Be kind, Kim.
She picked up a magazine from the stack next to her and…
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