7
“And that’s really it,” Austin said, allowing the plush seat of the counselor’s office to engulf him. “I don’t really know why I’m here, but I know I need to sleep.”
The counselor, Lieutenant Krista Carpenter, sipped her coffee. She gently placed the mug on the table in front of her and folded her arms over her chest. Austin had expected a large room complete with an oversized couch and a massive window overlooking the stars. Instead, her office was no bigger than Austin’s quarters and contained two seats, a filing cabinet, and a glass table.
She had said very little when he entered, simply asking him in a kind voice to explain what he would like to discuss. As he carefully laid out his concerns, she had studied him and made no notes of any kind.
He felt relieved. He didn’t want a pa
