It's been a while since she stayed up all night checking for surveillance equipment and rummaging through her neighbors' things. So that'll be fun.

Jessica sits on her couch with a glass of wine, staring at nothing. Her mind is still reeling from the revelation that one of her new patients lives across the hall. It seems likely as not to end in violation of boundaries (and honestly, professional ethics, if the girl's as bad as her other neighbors). And yet, the girl seemed just as surprised as Jessica. She groans, taking a long drink. There's no easy solution here. She'll have to report the issue to her supervisors in the morning and go from there. For now she does her best to unwind, turning on some soft music and flipping through a book she's been meaning to read. It's hard to focus with the knowledge of what awaits her tomorrow, but the familiar ritual is comforting. Her eyes start to droop just as the last of the wine disappears from her glass. It seems this day was determined to end as absurdly as it began.