I can’t tell Mum this but I hate it when she cries over Danny. I hate it because it reminds me there’s a part of her that will always belong to him, a part I can never know and will never heal. Another secret.

Lots of love, Grace xxx

14

Jon

My eyes burn as I close them and lean back on the sofa. My head is a nest of speculation, it won’t let me rest. I’ve been reading up on OxyContin. Nicknamed hillbilly heroin, it’s one of the strongest pain medications a GP can prescribe. I couldn’t see from the prescription slip how much OxyContin Dr. Rossi prescribed Meg, or for how long, but the withdrawal sounds horrendous. I leave the flat just after 6:30 a.m. The morning is a watery light blue, a whole orchestra of birds still celebrating its arrival. Aware I haven’t slept enough, I drive slowly on the empty morning roads. I turn the radio on and then off again—there’s enough chatter in my head about Meg, Dr. Rossi, and these pills without adding anything more to it. It’s only half past seven by the time I arrive. The office doesn’t open for another hour, so I push the driver’s seat back as far as it will go. My eyelids grate like sandpaper against my eyes as I let them close.

I wake with a start forty-five minutes later. There’s a gray-haired woman tapping on the window of my car, her face pinched and cross like a rag doll with the thread pulled too tight. I smile at her as I point towards the office so she knows I’m waiting for it to open. Her eyes move left and right, left and right before she finally looks up towards the sky and walks towards the entrance, unlocking the door with a shaky hand. I walk across the road, buy a takeaway coffee, and wait—with forced patience—in the parking lot for Dr. Rossi.

She arrives twenty minutes later, driving an old red Saab, and heads straight for a parking space in the far left corner, clearly her spot. She’s in another orderly two-piece suit, black shoes with rubber soles. She almost walks straight past me—she looks preoccupied, like she’s running through to-do lists in her head. She stops with a jolt as I step into her path.

“Hello, Dr. Rossi,” I say, my voice light.

She blinks at me a few times before recognition sinks in. She says my name like it’s the answer to a question she’s been puzzling over.

“Jon!” Her eyes are drawn over my shoulder. “What are you doing here?” She tries to match my light tone but it’s obvious from the way her lips thin and her eyes narrow that she’s far from pleased to see me.

I take a step towards her and she flicks her head. Her short gray hair fans out around her.

“We need to have a talk.”

She frowns. “I don’t have to talk to you about anything.”