Gabriel
The waiting room for the Department of Children and Families was about the most depressing place I had ever seen. The mismatched chairs were torn, the toys in the corner were dirty and broken, and the walls were covered with posters about free pregnancy tests and preventing shaken-baby syndrome. All of the chairs were occupied by people who looked down on their luck and stressed to the max, and one woman in the corner was trying unsuccessfully to calm a crying baby. I went to the window and smiled at the tired lioking secretary.
Despite my Segretto charm, she did not smile back. “Hi, I’m Gabriel Segretto, I called earlier.”
“Oh, right, hold on,” the secretary shuffled some papers and picked up the office phone. After she punched a couple buttons she spoke loudly into the recie
