The clock is nearing 9 PM when the rain starts pouring down over Boston. You and C.J. are the last ones left at The Stand, going over reports from students who sought help that week. The sound of raindrops hitting the windows creates an almost intimate atmosphere—a quiet refuge from the outside world.

"Looks like we’re stuck here for a while," C.J. remarks, glancing at the storm raging outside.

You smile, pulling up a chair to sit beside him. The conversation flows easily—first about work, about the students who have touched your hearts, but soon, without realizing it, you’re talking about yourselves.

"Do you ever think about leaving? Doing something else?" you ask.

C.J. shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. "I’ve thought about it. But at the end of the day, helping people is what keeps me whole."

The confession lingers in the air. Before you can respond, thunder rumbles through the city, and the lights flicker. Instinctively, you inch closer to him, and C.J. lets out a quiet chuckle.

"If you want, I can tell you a story to distract you," he teases.