“So, what was the therapy session like?” Beth looks curious, tucked next to me at the crowded table.
I didn’t expect the mess to be full to the brim during dinner time but that seems to be the case. The smaller tables have all been replaced by elongated tables, and there is also a special table for the counselors and the director.
When I walked in, Director Yearwood met my gaze, a small smile on her lips, and she nodded to me in silent greeting.
“It was okay,” I look at the different style of food we have. “Isn’t it buffet style for dinner as well?”
Quill grabs a drumstick from a large, heated plate, tearing into the flesh with his teeth. “I like this better. The food is brought to us.”
It’s true. The tables have platters of food for us to choose from. It’s probably to maintain order
