@clcirvoycnt
Seward reaches over and turns off the phonograph, her customary mark for the end of a session. Next in her pattern is to give Vanessa some assignment--she had been thinking of go to a place you haven’t visited in some time, someplace that made you happy--and to remind her to pay Mr. Renfield on the way out, and then that’ll be all, Ms. Ives... But as she stubs out her cigarette (she seems to be smoking more and more, these days) she feels... Reluctant. Reluctant to let Vanessa go.
It’s not how she is accustomed to feel about patients. She has wanted them to be safe, hoped that they would be well, but never felt protective this way. As though she could close the office door on that tormented, tormenting world and keep Vanessa in here, safe.
“Miss Ives,” she says, and hesitates. “The patient I see, following your session, has cancelled their appointment for today.” Another moment’s pause. Her voice stays perfectly steady, but these little silences betray her: Seward is uncertain. “Perhaps you might like to stay awhile longer. In a friendly capacity?”
