My name is Nadia Pembroke. I am a psychological counselor.At the beginning of the year, I met a client: a refined, well-mannered woman named Evelyn Vantrell. Although she didn’t look that well, it was clear she hadn’t reached the point of needing my services herself.Just as I suspected, she brought me to see the real patient: a 28-year-old woman."This is my daughter-in-law. She and my son were in a car accident during a self-driving trip. My son… died on the spot…" Evelyn choked up before continuing, "She was unconscious for two days. When she woke up, her mental state became like this."I turned my head to look at the woman sitting on the sofa.She was beautiful, tall, and slender with an elegant posture. Evelyn said she used to be a dancer. I smiled lightly and said that it showed.The younger woman sat quietly, absently playing with the two bracelets tangled together around her wrist."Her name is Sloane Hartwell. You can call her Sloane."I nodded and cautiously tried to
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