Her eyebrows rose.
“Too fast?”
“Suspiciously.”
“I’m functioning.”
“That I believe.”
“How are you?”
“At my parents’ house wearing stolen clothing.”
“It wasn’t stolen.”
“Possession remains disputed.”
“You can keep it.”
“That sounds like you’re giving me something before the difficult part.”
“It was already yours.”
Ellie touched the hem.
“I haven’t decided what to do with it.”
I wanted to tell her to keep it forever.
That seemed ambitious for the first minute.
“My father made a file about you,” she said.
“I remain deeply unsettled.”
“He has categories.”
“Legal categories?”
“Worse. Personal observations.”
“Did he assign a risk level?”
“Not yet.”
“Am I doing well?”
“Your posture scored highly.”
I sat straighter.
Ellie noticed.
“That won’t improve the overall assessment.”
“What were the weaknesses?”
“Avoids direct answers. Probably overscheduled. Retirement planning unknown.”
