The reply was muffled. Were those sobs? She quickly opened the door. The girl was as white as a sheet, tears contorting her sweet, young face.

Leah sat down next to her, putting a tentative arm around her. To her surprise, Shaindele clutched her, shaking.

Leah had never seen her like this. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What’s happened, sweetie? Was it a difficult session with the psychologist? Sometimes that happens. It’s not a bad thing.”

Shaindele shook her head, gulping down the phlegm that was now choking her, wiping away her blinding tears. How to explain the complicated situation with this man to her stepmother? She wasn’t even wholly convinced she understood it herself. And yet one thing was clear: Yoel Grub was dangerous, and she was no match for him.

“I can’t go back, Leah. I just can’t!”

“Hey, no one is going to force you, I promise you. But can you just explain to me why?” She tried to be gentle, sympathetic, but her heart dropped, imagining the repercussions at Shaindele’s school, not to mention with her father! Another thing on his plate for him to deal with! No, for them to deal with; something that would take up more of their precious time together, putting new pressures on their relationship, new obstacles in the way of their intimacy.

Shaindele shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.”

What was that supposed to mean? Despite her sincerest efforts to be understanding and sympathetic, Leah found herself filled with irritation. “Try.”

Something in her stepmother’s tone sobered her up. She drew back sharply, stilling her sobs. “It’s not safe for me there.”

“Not safe? In what way? What are you afraid of, Shaindele?”

How to explain how his face looked when he said things, the unspeakable implications? She tried to remember something he’d said that was outrageous, which she could now repeat to win her stepmother over to her side, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t the words, it was the way he said it, and even more, the way he didn’t say things, things she’d expected … wanted … him to say, the correct, religious things a rav should say to a young woman he was supposed to be counseling. Most of all, it was a feeling deep in her stomach, an ache, a fear, a desire for flight that was instinctive and uncontrollable.

“He’s not helping you?”

She couldn’t even say that! For most of this past session at least, he had been perfectly professional and very helpful.

“I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me, sweetie. Please!”