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Parking in front of the huge building where George Wilson's office was, Scarlett fixed the makeup that was smeared on her face after the outburst she had. She was angry with herself. It was rare for her to cry so suddenly. She almost started to lose a part of herself with this case. She couldn't recognize herself. She was torn between good and bad, between Sebastian and Thomas, between Thomas and George ... it was all a vicious circle for her.

She entered the building slowly and was greeted at the reception by a cheerful Peyton. This was the first time Scarlett hadn't needed to roll her eyes at her overly annoyed personality. Now she envied her. She envied her for not being able to be like her, to be content with trivial things. She envied her because Scarlett had a black hole in her chest that would never be filled by anything.

"Hello, sweetie," Peyton giggled happily, but soon made a serious face when she saw Scarlett's face. ''Oh, my God, Scarlett. You look awful. "

"I know," she agreed quietly.

"You look very worn out and tired."

"That's exactly how I feel."

"I heard you were working on a serious case. Some serial killer, if I'm not mistaken. "

She drank a huge sip of some of her healthy horribly green shakes. Scarlett's stomach turned over from that awful liquid that smelled even worse. She wondered how she could drink something so awful - and still enjoy it.

"Would you like some?" She offered her shake.

''No thanks. I'll pass," she politely declined.

"You could try eating a little healthier, Scarlett. Moreover, you could take yoga classes with me. That would totally help you and relieve you of the accumulated stress ", there was a dose of excitement in her eyes. ''What do you say about that?''

In her head, she went over the list of appropriate and decent ways to reject her proposal, but George Wilson's voice saved her from that torment.

"Scarlett, you're here," she heard his footsteps behind her. She turned to him and saw him in one of his precious suits. His face was pale and drunk, and he looked tired. She silently nodded. "Follow me," he told her a little reservedly.

His office was in the same condition as the last time she was in it. The patient's files were scattered on the desk, the ashtray was full of cigarette butts, and the air was stuffy as if it hadn't been ventilated for several days, mixed with the smell of cigarettes. She felt a slight nausea.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asked, sitting down in his chair. She shook her head. "You didn't sound your best on the phone. Did you want to talk about something?"

She pursed her lips slightly and stared at her fingers under the table. She wasn't even sure why she came to him. She assumed it had something to do with him being the only paternal figure in her life. The only person like a parent to whom she could turn to.

"I'm sorry we clashed that night," his gaze focused on her as she said it.

"I'm sorry too," he told her. "But I mean everything I said that night. You've crossed the line of professionalism, Scarlett. "

"Maybe I really did," she said softly, trying to hold back the tears that burned in the corners of her eyes.

"Scarlett, you're like a daughter to me, you know that, don't you?" She nodded. "I don't want you to make such hasty mistakes. I put you on this case because I thought you were mature and smart enough to deal with the facts and not let your feelings control you. "

"Yes, I thought so too."

"What has changed?" She shrugged at his question.

''I don't know.''

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