You heard a knock on the door. That was a little strange. You weren't expecting any clients. You checked the clock. The big hand pointed to ten while the little one was leaning towards six. The last client left half an hour ago. Did he forget something?

"Come in," you further invited the stranger into your office while you put the necessary files in your bag, ready to head home at any moment. The heavy door opened with a creak, and you glanced up at the uninvited guest.

A male figure appeared behind the door, broad shouldered, rather tall. What the hell... Price. You'd recognize him anytime, anywhere, no matter how many years passed, he still looked the same. Blue eyes that had slipped over time to more of a grey that showed up here and there in his beard too. The wrinkles around his eyes had deepened, but... it wasn't from age as much as it was from stress.

And... you'd have to be completely blind not to notice the way the soldier was staring at you. How he recognized your face, opening old wounds and memories he held close to his heart. "I...," he cleared his throat a little, his voice hoarse. "I'm looking for Dr. Smith." He looked around a bit at the cozy office with the two armchairs, the bookcase, the paintings... a pleasant atmosphere, the way a psychologist's office should be. "But I guess she's not here," his lips parted into a small smile.

But the truth was, at his first appointment with Dr. Smith, he noticed your name ont the next door and... he couldn't help but feel the urge to see you again. Even if it was just as old friends. But of course, he wasn't going to tell you that he'd wandered up to your door on purpose.