He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll do my best.” After setting down the laptop, he eyes the untouched sandwich. “Fuck it. If you’re not going to eat this, I will.” He takes a bite, then another before leaving it on the plate and settling on my bed.

Now I know it isn’t drugged, so I greedily eat the rest in only a few bites. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I saw it sitting there.

Before getting on the session, I go to the bathroom and wash my face, trying to make myself presentable. I’ve done a lot of crying in the past day alone. I hardly look my best, but at least nobody’s going to think the worst the second they set eyes on me.

With Colt stretched out on my bed, out of sight of the camera, I log in to my Zoom account and force myself to smile when the twelve-year-old who needs help with his history logs in. “Hey, Zach,” I offer with a wave. “How’s it going? How did you do on the quiz you had?” It’s easy to forget Colt’s presence after a few minutes now that I have something else to focus my attention on.

A half-hour passes much too quickly, so quickly, in fact, that we run overtime. “I gotta go,” Zach suddenly announces. “I’ve got practice.” I don’t know what kind of practice. I only know I want to tell the kid to skip it today, anything, so long as I don’t have to end this call. “Mom said she’ll pay you as soon as the invoice comes in.” Then he gives me a quick wave, and that’s it. I’m back to being isolated.

For the first time in more than thirty minutes, Colt speaks. “You did a good job.”

I barely keep from rolling my eyes when I turn in my chair to face him. “Aren’t things already bad enough? You don’t have to make fun of me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. You covered well. And you actually seemed like you gave a shit about what the kid was talking about.”

“I do give a shit. That’s half the reason why it was so important to show up for this session.”

“What’s the other half of the reason?”

I meet his gaze, unflinching. “It’s either that, or I sit here and go crazy.” I mean, why mask the truth? There are no illusions between us anymore. I’ll be damned if I’m going to spare his feelings by trying to sugarcoat things. “How do you do this? How do you just walk around the house and go on with your life while holding me prisoner?”

Without missing a beat, he answers, “You get used to it.”