“That’s not what it’s code for.” Olivia turned down the radio with a sigh. “Before I started my own business, I worked in Long Beach at a clinic that serviced emotionally and physically abused children, most of them from low-income areas. Every now and then, social services sent us a client who hailed from a privileged background. One time I got assigned a kid who had been a child actor.”

“Who was it? Lori Shiffen? ’Cause she was fuuuuucked up.”

Olivia’s eyes flashed with irritation. “I’m not telling you who it was. That information is confidential. But anyway, I mistakenly thought working with her would be easy, but I soon realized she had similarities to my clients who lived in poverty. She just wore a prettier dress.”

Chase made a face. “So you’re saying someone like me is like a poor person? ’Cause that’s not true. And I don’t get what that has to do with being in whatever the name of that town is.”

“On some levels you aren’t close to being similar to someone who has not had their basic needs met. But on many levels you are. You grew up in a world that’s not the norm. I don’t know everything about you, Chase, but I know a lot of people let you down, and though you may have had your physical needs—like food and shelter—met with great satisfaction, your emotional needs were ignored in favor of promoting your career. Or at least that’s what I have learned with actors, athletes, and virtuosos who spent their childhoods striving to elevate themselves above the normal. They circumvented important stages of development in favor of success. And there are penalties to pay when one does that.”

“Okay, so I wasn’t raised like a lot of kids.”

“You weren’t raised like a kid at all. Where did you go to preschool?”

Chase shook her head. “I didn’t. I was homeschooled. Lots of kids are homeschooled.”

“Of course they are.” Olivia maneuvered the car off the two-lane curving road onto a highway. The sun peeked out from behind a cloud, and Chase pushed her sunglasses from atop her head onto her nose.

“Who were your friends when you were a child? Say, when you were around six or seven years old? Name them.”

Chase didn’t have an answer. She remembered playing with one little girl who lived near her before she started doing commercials. They’d played in a nearby park. She could still remember the way the metal slide burned the backs of her thighs and the time she fell and chipped her front tooth while jumping rope. Her mother had been furious, and Lorna had refused to let her go back to the playground. When Chase had made it onto feature films, they’d had an on-set tutor for any children in the production. In between worksheets, she learned to play poker and Grand Theft Auto with some of the older kids. “I didn’t have any.”

“Did you learn to ride a bike?”