<div style="text-align: justify;">After crying, yelling, shouting and begging, Emma had simply given up. She wouldn’t leave that place, she was sure. Her father hadn’t brought her here for treatment. He had abandoned her here. He would never come back. She was all alone now.<br/><br/>The voice in her head, of course, agreed. She was alone, and it was all her fault. She had failed again. And now she had no mother, no father, no home, no family…<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">You have screwed up pretty bad this time. Congratulations</span><br/><br/>“Shut up!”, Emma nearly shouted. She let out a soft scream when she heard the knocking on the door. Had someone heard her talking to the voice? Emma froze in place, standing near a wall.<br/><br/>When the man she had never met entered her room, she was perfectly still. He would see a  girl around his age, maybe slightly younger, with long dark hair - now tied on a braid - and big blue eyes with a tormented expression. A blind man could see that the girl was desperately unhappy.<br/><br/>Hearing Len introduce himself made Emma feel that she needed to do the same. She held out a hand, and then withdrew it when she remembered the bandage around her wrist. <span style="font-style: italic">Loser</span>, the voice murmured in her head.<br/><br/>“Y-yes, sir, I’m Emma Duncan”, she replied politely, with the politeness one would expect from a child talking to a grown up. The girl was obviously nervous and insecure as well, and she kept a very straight and somewhat rigid posture as she walked to her bed and sat down, looking up at Len. “What… how does this work?”, she asked quietly. “I have never really done this… t-therapy, I mean”, Emma explained.<br/><br/>Once she had admitted that she didn’t know what to do - <span style="font-style: italic">we are failing a lot for such a short time</span> -, Emma just sat with her hands on her lap and waited for Len to tell her what to do.</div>