MARCO Hey little guy.
Olivia’s hand hovers. Her face is unreadable. She remembers the photo, the panic, the therapy, the puppy-assisted sessions. She breathes, remembers the techniques: name the sensation, slow breath, grounding.
INT. THERAPIST’S OFFICE — DAY (ONE WEEK LATER) aniphobia script
Olivia recoils, knocking a plant; soil scatters. The dog does not bark. It comes to Olivia and wets her knee. That touch sends her into a seizure of panic—she covers her face and collapses backward onto the couch.
MARCO We’ll figure this out. You don’t have to do it alone. MARCO Hey little guy
MARCO Meet Ellie. Rescued from a shelter. She’s slow to trust, like someone else I know.
The steps grow louder. There’s a faint scratching at the baseboard near the corner. Olivia’s breath quickens. Her hands curl into fists. She remembers the photo, the panic, the therapy,
She extends a finger. Ellie sniffs it, then nuzzles her knuckle. Olivia’s hand trembles; she doesn’t pull away.