Helena's POV"I'm still shocked about this John and Cassie thing, they always passed off such a perfect image." Sophie said as she stirred her coffee on that icy afternoon. I nodded and sipped my hot chocolate, immediately feeling it tear down my sore throat. "You really never know what's going on in someone's life." I commented in a raspy voice due to my stuffy nose and Sophie agreed. "How are you feeling about all this? She asked looking at me thoughtfully and I shrugged. " We're close, but... I don't know." I snorted rubbing my hands over my face." I am afraid of confusing our closeness and seeing signs where there is nothing, I am an expert at this kind of thing. He just ended a relationship, I was sad for him and.... Argh, I don't know!" I grunted and mimicked my earlier gesture, hearing Sophie laugh weakly."Be honest. You weren't even a little bit happy about this breakup?" I sighed and pondered my answer for a moment. "Happy isn't exactly the word. It's complicated. It's

John's POV Sitting on the couch in the living room with a glass of whiskey in hand, I was reflecting on the last few months and also trying to lower my adrenaline after the scare Helena had given me. Seeing her suddenly faint right in front of me put me in a state of immediate apprehension, and at that moment the only thing that crossed my mind was to run to her and lift her into my arms, not caring about the conversation with Thompson and Stenfield. Perhaps the guilt of having a share of responsibility for her current state had caused such anguish in me, a feeling that had not yet completely ceased. I heard footsteps approaching and lifted my head to see my father approaching and quietly pouring himself a shot of whiskey. He sat down in the armchair in front of me and stared at me."How's the girl?" He asked without really sho

"I believe so," I glanced at my watch and realized I had to return to the office. "I need to go.""Alright.""See you later," I said, receiving a nod in response."Goodbye."I ended the conversation and leaned back in my chair with a wide smile on my face. Things seemed to be clearing up in the Zummack case, as Sandro's testimony would be crucial in obtaining valuable information for my client's defense. I gathered my belongings, locked my office, bid farewell to some people who were there, and headed towards the exit of the building, feeling incredibly tired but also very satisfied.I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and answered without paying much attention to the screen."Hello, John. Did you miss me?" I abruptly stopped walking, a chilling coldness ran down my spine, freezing me completely. The robotic voice mocked on the other end of the call, and I quickly looked around in alert, with growing anger taking over me. I needed to regain my composure and stay calm."What do you wa

"Psychological typology does not have the purpose, in itself quite useless, of dividing people into categories; rather, it signifies a critical psychology that makes possible the methodical investigation and ordering of empirical materials relating to the psyche. It is, first of all, a critical instrument for the researcher in psychology who needs certain points of view and guidelines to bring order to the almost chaotic profusion of individual experiences.*"I busied myself trying to read the material for next week's exam, however, I could not concentrate at all. I picked up the book and headed out the door to the place I liked best in the house: the garden where the rocking bench was. I hadn't been there for a few days and I already missed the peace that this environment exuded. The cold night was not an impediment for me to sit there, forgetting the world while I read or simply enjoyed the wonderful flowers spread all over the green area. As I approached my destination, I suddenly

"What exactly do you have to explain to me, Ms. Helena? And where is the book?" she asked interested, and I prepared myself for her reaction to what I was going to say next. I bit my lip and stared at her, trying to contain the slight smile that stubbornly wanted to show itself."I forgot the book in the garden last night. "I started, and was urged on by a clearly impatient Sophie. " E...? "" One of two ways. Either Bento destroyed it, or it's with John. " And, as I expected, she blinked several times in pure confusion. "And why would your book be with Carter?" Do you want the full story, or just what matters?""What do you think? " She questioned agitatedly and I laughed. "Okay... "I took a deep breath and continued, "John and I kissed. "I let go all at once.My friend's jaw dropped.And when I say dropped, it's because it definitely could have hit the ground if that were possible.She blinked several times again and stared at me for a long second, totally still and dumbfounded