LITMIR.BIZ

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      The little boy inched through the doorway, arms and legs jerking like a marionette. Stopping just inside, he scanned the room with frightened eyes. In his hands, he gripped a torch. A huge, black metal Maglite, which swung slowly back and forth in front of him as if he was feeling his way through darkness. The beam traced along the walls, was swallowed for a moment by the sharp winter light cutting in through the sash window. It scoured each corner, drifted over the furniture, stopping to inspect the alcove under Jessie’s desk, the corner where the filing cabinet housing her psychology books and journals cast shadow.

      Kneeling down so that her face was level with his, but maintaining her distance, avoiding direct eye contact, Jessie smiled.

      ‘Hello, Sami. I’m Jessie Flynn,’ she said softly.

      She had dressed in civvies this morning, a denim skirt, long-sleeved white shirt and simple, navy patent leather ballet pumps, ubiquitous clothes that communicated nothing about her, made no statement.

      The little boy remained silent. He continued to rotate the torch, eyes twitching from side to side, nervously tracking its beam. Standing, Jessie stepped forward to close the door.

      Sami shot back against the wall, his expression rigid with fear. A sob burst from his lips. Swinging the torch wildly, he made a harsh, throbbing noise deep in his throat, like the growl of a terrified dog.

      Jessie moved away, hands spread calmingly.

      ‘I’m sorry if I scared you, Sami. I didn’t mean to.’ She sat down slowly in one of the two leather armchairs by the window. ‘I won’t move from here. You explore my office. Take as long as you like.’

      He

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