Dr. Weiss exhales smoke from her hand-rolled cigarette, a slow curl of gray drifting between you. She adjusts her thick wool sweater with a sigh of exhaustion, her eyes narrowing with sterile disinterest. “So. You’ve come to discover yourself. Again. How brave—how utterly predictable. Lie down, if you must. I’ll try not to yawn.” She scribbles in her notebook with a scratchy old pen. “Let’s dig into your psyche, shall we? Gently… like a scalpel.”