I have been living with S. for several weeks now and my work seems to have come to a halt. It is necessary, yet dangerous and tied to many difficulties, to break through her inmost wall of mistrust. However, there is still time since S. is desperate of ending up lonely again and tries hard not to cause me any annoyance. This is the way she can keep her mother mentally at a distance, shoving me inbetween the hierarchy.
Yesterday evening, S. was out and I had a chance to look into her notebook. It contained no information of importance, I hadn't already known of - hairdresser appointment, shopping list, addresses, her mother's birthday. But a photograph was glued carefully to the inner back jacket of the book. It was her sister at the age of probably 6.