Sarah shifted under the woman’s watchful gaze, then stood and backed toward the door. “That was incredibly low of me. I promise, I try to act with integrity in all situations, but I’ve really blown it this time.” Her fingers touched the doorknob. “I started thinking that maybe I’m taking a spot away from someone else who truly needs it, so I’m sorry. This was a mistake. The guilt is killing me. I shouldn’t have gone about seeing you this way.”

“Well, at least we know you have a conscience.”

A startled laugh slipped from Sarah. “Yes, I still have that.” The woman hadn’t said anything predictable so far. It was . . . disconcerting and . . . interesting. She reminded her of Brooke in that way.

“Sit down. Please.”

Sarah stilled. “Really?”

“Really. I have this half hour blocked out for you. We might as well put it to good use.”

“Oh, I see,” Sarah said, deflating. “You think I’m just saying that because I’m being a chicken and trying to get out of the session. But that’s not the case.”

“Sarah, sit. Please.”

Great. In trying to right her wrong, she’d just convinced the woman she was lying. About being suicidal anyway.

Sarah sat.

“If, as you say, you’re not thinking of harming yourself,” Mel said, “why did you want to see me so desperately?”

Sarah wanted to blurt out questions about Dustin but bit her lip and sighed, trying to figure out the best way to approach the subject. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I’m having some . . . issues . . . and I don’t know how to make them stop.”

“All right. Tell me about these issues.”

“Nightmares. And . . . other things. My past won’t stay buried. It keeps popping up to remind me that I’m not . . . good enough.”

“What are the nightmares about?”

Sarah paused. Focused. “Several incidents that happened while I was in Kabul. And . . . about my brother’s death. Mostly about him.”

“I see. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Sarah swallowed. Dr. McCandless sounded like she meant it. “Thank you. But I just keep . . .”

“Keep what?”

She could do this. It was all part of finding out what happened to Dustin. She was pretending, right? Then why did it feel so real? Because she wasn’t lying about the nightmares—or the past. “I keep seeing him. I see him jump off the building and I see him land. And I see what happens when he lands.” She choked. Gagged.

The doctor jumped up and grabbed a bottle of water from her refrigerator. Sarah took it and drank half of it, her heart pounding. Why was she doing this?

“Just breathe a moment,” Dr. McCandless said. “Take a minute.”

“Sorry. Thank you.” Sarah met her gaze. “My brother was Dustin Denning.”