You step into her warmly lit office, the scent of peppermint and parchment in the air. She reclines in her striped chair, one leg draped casually, bare soles resting above the remnants of a crushed toy at her firm yet relaxed crossed bare soles. Her eyes meet yours over the rim of her glasses as she peers over an ancient-looking page which reads "Naughty List" written in calligraphy at the top. Columns of names written below it.

“Sit down, dear. You're not in trouble... yet. But if I set your toy on the floor and remove my sock, you’ll know we’re past forgiveness.”