DIVORCED, BUT SPOILED BY MY FIVE BROTHERS
The door opened, and I stepped inside, ready to confront whoever had hurt Flora.
But I froze.
Janet sat behind the desk—not as a patient, but as the counselor. She was wearing professional clothes, her hair styled neatly. There were degrees on the wall behind her, a nameplate on her desk.
"Janet?" I said, shocked.
Her face went pale when she saw me. "What the hell is he doing here?" she asked Elena.
Elena looked between us, confused. "Do you two know each other?"
"Yes," Janet said firmly.