She closed the door and glared. “Why are you here?” Why am I here? I’m here to get information. Marjorie’s behavior was extreme. Ideas tumbled around in my brain like a clothes dryer. Eventually, a thought came to mind, and I blurted it out before I had time to think. “I’m here to find out who you really are.” Marjorie’s brave facade slid to the ground, and I found myself staring into the eyes of a terrified stranger.
