From the author: OK, Maybe Jasmine’s Got Problems, Too
I called off work for next Thursday and spent most of the intervening time worried.
Then I was actually driving to Columbus and I couldn't stop thinking that it was a hoax, I was worried for nothing, Jasmine was playing some part from a book, torturing poor Agnes with worry.
Who was I kidding? Agnes wasn’t the sort to give her fucks freely. I was clenching my teeth by the time I got to the outer-ring suburb the therapist office was in.
It was a generic 90s office building, four floors,...