Janet was a woman who had seen all sorts pass over the threshold of her support group. Women on the verge of breaking down. Women close to suicide, women with nowhere else to turn, women who couldn't be touched without flinching. Women who'd already learned how to cope, and wanted to help others. Women in the process of healing, women who had no idea how to start the process of healing, abused wives and girlfriends and everything in between, all hoping for some extra support or those connections with someone - anyone - who understood.

This newcomer was different to any of them. Similar enough in the ways that counted, like her uncertain smile and her choice of clothing. The way she looked around the lobby while she waited, like she wanted to know her surroundings, and maybe figure out a quick exit. But there was something about the Israeli-looking woman that Janet couldn't quite put her finger on. She was... uncertain, yes, but not to the point of faltering. And she was polite, too. Polite and friendly, like she was just dropping by for a quick chat.

Out of curiosity, Janet wrapped up her phone call quickly. It was a routine thing, so hanging up earlier than she strictly should have brought absolutely no guilt with it. "Can I help you?" she asked the woman with a gentle smile.