“Of course,” he says somberly. “We’ll only do as much as you’re comfortable with. Remember you’re safe here.”

“Yeah? Well, what just happened didn’t make me feel very safe.”

All I want is to get out of this office.

“My sincerest apologies, Allie,” he remarks. “That wasn’t the intention of this exercise.”

I stand, wrapping my arms around my torso, and he walks with me to the door, where Sofia waits in the hallway. Before either of them can say anything, I storm toward the exit, and Sofia scurries to follow me.

“What happened in there?” she asks when she matches my pace.

I shake my head as we reach the doors. “I don’t know.”

“Allie.”

Sofia catches my arm, forcing me to stop and look at her once we’re outside the building. My lip trembles, and I bite down on it stubbornly.

“Talk to me.”

“He tried to help me access old memories,” I admit, moving toward the car at a slower rate than before, allowing her to walk beside me. “It was traumatizing.”

She’s quiet as we slide into the car, waiting a beat to turn on the ignition, and it’s long enough that scattered raindrops begin to fall, landing on the windshield before gliding into a full-on downpour.

“You haven’t even told me what all happened that night,” I say.

Sofia looks caught off guard, and I watch her face carefully. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you. I thought the simple details would be enough. You’re already taking in a lot of information every day,” she reasons.

“I want—I need to know everything.”

She sighs, leaning back against the seat and turning down the radio. “I have a lot of regrets about that night,” she confesses, voice low. “And everything that came before it. We were arguing—we always argued.”

“About what?” I adjust my position, turning toward her.

“That night in particular, it was that I didn’t want you to go to the party,” she says, lips curling upward. “You were always getting into trouble—shoplifting, skipping school, drinking, picking fights with the other kids. I often felt like my only job was cleaning up after you. Even when you were grounded, you found ways to do whatever you wanted.

“I’d told you I didn’t want you spending time with your friends anymore, but you didn’t care. Unfortunately, you get your stubbornness and temper from me.” She chuckles quietly before sobering. “It was explosive. We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean. And when you didn’t come back that night, I thought it was just because you were angry at me. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time.”

Her voice breaks on the last sentence, and my throat becomes thick. I want to reach out to comfort her, but I don’t know how.