“Yes.” She exhaled, looked down at her hands. “I tried the old wake-up tricks, but nothing worked. Once again, Troy Woods raped me.”

Scott dabbed at the corner of his eye. “I can’t imagine, Caitlin.”

She tried a smile. “Don’t try—it’s not fun.”

“So after the dream?”

“I agreed to come back to Bloomington.”

“Then the real attacks started?”

Caitlin let her head drop to her hands. “Yep.”

Scott leaned down to her level. “Any chance you’ve heard of cognitive behavioral therapy?”

She looked up. “Did we just go from friends talking to friends playing doctor?”

He laughed. “I do have a PhD, but I’m no psychiatrist.”

“That would be nice. Got time for one more degree?”

“I am a psychologist, Caitlin. Slightly out of the game, I’ll admit. I had a fairly good practice through the late eighties. Lucky me, I found teaching in ninety-one and didn’t look back until the wars started. Now I make myself available for those in need, and there are plenty. You might be one of them.”

A buzzing broke the moment.

She handed the joint back to Scott, then dropped a hand to her bag. “Yeah, probably.”

His eyes followed her reach for her phone. “Did I just lose you?”

“No.” She noticed a text message from Mike Roman: Check your email. “I haven’t spent much time talking about all of this.”

“I can tell. You should make the time.”

“Looks like I’ve got some news about Chapman.”

“Okay, I can feel the shift. You need to run free.” He slid the bag of weed her way. “But think of this as a remedy, not a cure.”

He walked to the door, turned the knob. “One last unsolicited thought, Caitlin. Bloomington has become a trigger for you, something that returns you to the helplessness you felt with your attacker. There are ways to recondition you to accept and grow from the events in your life, no matter how awful. Any time you want to grow, you give me a call. Even out of office hours.”

She took a breath, found a shaky smile on the other side. “Thanks again, Scott. I will be back.”

She walked to the elevator, unsure whether she was more excited to be out of the room or to check Roman’s message. The subject line had promise: Michelson tied to growhouse, probably still active.

Chapter 24

CHAPTER

24

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Caitlin rang Lakshmi’s buzzer. Lakshmi opened the door, mouthed the words I’m so sorry, pointed Caitlin to the couch, and continued an existing phone conversation. “You know how much I owe you, Jessica. This will really help with my project …”