Foolish Red-Haired Girl

The woman who was there to talk to Claudia today was not her usual social worker. She wasn't any of the social workers who'd occasional pinch-hit for her usual social worker. She wasn't the state-ordered therapist, any of the cops she knew, or even the receptionist who sometimes let Claudia check her email on her computer when she was stuck here for more than a couple hours. She wasn't, in fact, someone Claudia had ever seen before, and Claudia hadn't even heard her come into the room, which was a nice trick, considering how much that door shrieked any time anyone walked in or out.

"Good afternoon," said the woman. ( 'I'm Mrs. Frederic.' )

[ooc: establishing posts, FTW!]