Chapter Five
I made it through group without slipping into a coma or getting on my knees and banging my head on my chair. Sitting and listening to other people whine on about s**t seems like a waste of time, but I force myself to do it. It’s an art, listening. All good private eyes need the skill. I once mastered the ability, as part of my mission with the Corps.
Ever since my concussion, I found it so much harder to concentrate on what people were actually saying. I need to cultivate that skill again if I ever hope to have a future in the information business. For good or ill, group therapy forces me to listen to others. So even though it feels like torment, I go to group now and then.
On Nick’s turn to share, he intimated that he’d gone through a brief period of over-the-counter drug
