Lizzy's fidget toy sat at the bottom of her hoodie pocket, being nudged around with her frantic, nail-bitten fingers. She fumbles for it with one hand, palm closing around the ergonomic piece of pink plastic with practiced grace, sweaty palms trembling. She runs her thumb across its ridged edges, clicking the button as fast as she can, letting the soft sound soothe her. The back is soft, felted, calming to the touch as she spins the small wheel at the side.

Eventually, the clicking slows, and she runs her fingers across the downy surface of the backside.

She takes a breath in, then out, just like her therapist taught her.

She opens her eyes after a long ten seconds.