In due time, perhaps, but I want to discuss the nature of your anxiety.

[Chilton exhaled, frowning, and interwove his own fingers together as he stared over them at Reggie.]

There had to be a catalyst. Something, or a sequence of something, that created this circumstantial anxiety. [But Reggie wasn't about to tell him, that much was clear.]

What was your childhood like, Reggie? In this small town of yours.