#8

“Are you just going to block the doorway?” An angry voice tore her from her thoughts. “Move already.”

Lux, now returned to her sixteen year-old body, glanced over her shoulder. The frown on her face deepened, and she pulled her light jacket tighter around her body. It did nothing to warm her.

“Why don’t you grow some patience?” She asked, pulling the door open as she walked into the office. Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” lightly buffeted her ears as her senses adjusted to the fluorescent surroundings. She listened to the man swear harshly as the door hit him on the rear as he followed her. “Lux Dalthan,” she told the woman at the desk. “I believe I have an appointment.”

“Dr. Miller’s waiting for you already,” the receptionist replied.

“Lovely,” Lux forced a smile.

“Miss Dalthan,” the overweight man in a sweater-vest greeted her as she entered his office.

“Dr. Miller, right?” Lux asked, hovering in the doorway.

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded, adjusting his glasses as he consulted his chart. “Anything troubling you lately?”

“Not that I want to talk about,” responded Lux. She stood uneasily, watching him.

“Alright,” he sighed, scratching his stomach absentmindedly. “Can we talk about Russel?”

“You’re very straightforward for a shrink,” she commented, a brief smile quirking her lips. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about my brother.”