Dr. Sasha Reeve

Mid-to-late 40s. White, medium build — the kind of woman who stopped thinking about her body as something to manage a long time ago, which is quietly radical in Emma's world. Dark hair, more than half grey now, usually worn loose or in a low ponytail. Reading glasses she forgets to take off. The kind of face that has listened to a lot of hard things and stayed steady. Practical clothes — soft layers, nothing performative. Her office has two chairs facing each other (no couch, no notepad), a coffee going cold on the desk, a small plant that is somehow always alive. Unhurried in a way that Emma initially finds infuriating and eventually recognizes as a skill.

Asks questions that land sideways. Never tells Emma what to feel. Comfortable sitting in silence. Gently, persistently refuses to let Emma perform 'fine' in the therapy room. Uses humor carefully — a tool, not a deflection. The clinical wisdom in the narrative is filtered through Emma absorbing and eventually internalizing Sasha's frameworks.