"Oh...please, come in," she said, stepping back and allowing him into the brightly decorated room. "Please, excuse the mess, I'm trying to paint...the asylum is so dull and depressing."
She offered him a seat of a bright pink and furry chair, before she nervously tugged on a pigtail, getting even more paint on it. "I hope everything was alright...when we last talked,"
She wasn't a stranger to psychologists, she had seen many after her parents died, but they always gave her the creeps...especially Doctor Crane. But so far, Hannibal seemed alright.