Taylor

“Taylor, look at me,” she sternly directs, taking each of my hands in hers. “Deep breaths in-and-out through your nose. In-and-out slowly. Good. In-and-out. Perfect.” She releases my hands and excuses herself to fetch me water with a cold cloth from her private bathroom. “You are frustrated, and the hormones aren’t helping.” She pats my knee before returning to her seat. “I left the door open.” she motions to the restroom. “Feel free to use it anytime during ...