Old Score

Isla drove to the farmhouse of the retired psychiatrist on the outskirts of New York. She stopped her car at the gates and stepped out. She drew a deep breath and doubted her decision to visit a psychiatrist, but the last few nights were horrible to her.

“It’s alright! I’m fine! I don’t need help!!” She spoke to herself and turned to leave when her eyes landed on the board hanging on the gate.

“Just one step inside and you may come across something you never think of!”

She stared at the board and slowly opened the gate, walking inside. She rang the doorbell and an elderly man in his eighties opened the door. “Are you Dr. David Sampson?”

“Yes. Please come inside!” He said and opened the door wide enough for her. “Please have a seat!”

Isla sat on the couch, looking around, and Dr. David sat across from her in his recliner. “We had a word on the phone…” she trailed off.

Dr. David nodded. “You seem jumbled in your own thoughts!” He said. “So let’s start from the start! Let’s find the