“You don’t want to go on,” Tony repeated, using a subdued tone of voice to match the caller’s. He realized he had just used reflection, another listening skill.

The silence that followed was as deafening as a rock band. He wanted to say something more, but he didn’t know what to say. Shahla was listening intently to the speaker, but she didn’t give any helpful hints.

“I’m going to end it,” the sad voice finally said.

“What’s your name?” Tony asked. He needed to establish rapport with the caller.

After a pause the caller said, “Frank.”

“Hi, Frank. Do you think you’re going to hurt yourself?” He couldn’t bring himself to use the word “kill.”

“Yes.”

“How are you going to do it?”

“I have a gun.”

The guy was serious. “Where is it?”

“In my hand.”

“Is it loaded?”

“Yes. It’s pointed at my head.”

Tony looked at Shahla in panic. She pressed the mute button and said, “Try to get him to put the gun in another room.”

“Frank,” Tony said, “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll talk to you, but I can’t do it when you have a gun in your hand. I’m afraid there might be an accident. Will you do something for me? Unload the gun and place it in another room.”

Silence. Then Frank said, “I won’t unload it.”

“All right, but please put it in another room, out of sight.”

They went back and forth for several minutes. Finally, Frank agreed to take the gun to another room. While he was off the line, Tony said to Shahla, “I’m sweating.”

“Stay with him,” Shahla said, “You’re doing fine.”

Frank came back on the line and, without being asked, assured Tony that the gun was gone. That was a good sign. Tony said, “There are people who care about what happens to you.”

“Nobody cares.”

“I care. I care very much.” And Tony found that he did care.

Slowly, Frank’s story came out.