SIX
The Princeton Hotel had a gorgeous lobby offering numerous seating and conversation areas, massive chandeliers and thick area rugs over natural stone floors. At the furthest point from the glass entry doors was a reception desk that extended the entire length of the wall, where staff in brown blazers waited to greet guests with polite smiles. Chris Mason walked past the mahogany reception desk without looking in their direction, like someone already checked into the hotel. She made her way to the bank of elevators just beyond, her anxiety level getting higher with each step, as she climbed into an elevator and rode to the eleventh floor alone. How could she have done this? She knew all of the horror stories about psychologists who got involved with their patients. It was the road to p
