Manny led me to a desk in the rear corner and motioned for me to sit in an armchair across from it. The armchair was so plush I had a feeling I’d drown in it, but I took a seat anyway and Manny grew another foot as I sank and he took a high-backed chair behind the desk.

“So, Deforest,” Manny said, pulling a blank notepad from his desk drawer and tossing it on top, “how can we help you?

“I’m not sure you can.”

He leaned back in his chair, opened his arms wide, and smiled. “Try me.”

I shrugged. “Maybe it was a dumb idea. I just was walking past the building, I saw the sign…” Another shrug.

“And you felt a tug.”

“A what?”

“A tug.” He leaned forward again. “You feel displaced, am I right?”

“A little,” I said and looked at my shoes.

“Maybe a little, maybe a lot. We’ll see. But displaced. And then you’re out walking, carrying that weight in your chest that you’ve been carrying so long you barely notice it anymore. And you see this sign. Grief Release. And you feel it tug you. Because that’s what you’d like. A release. From your confusion. Your loneliness. Your displacement.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sound about right?”

I cleared my throat, skipped my glance across his steady gaze as if I were too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “Maybe.”

“No ‘maybe,’” he said. “Yes. You’re in pain, Deforest. And we can help you.”

“Can you?” I said, working the slightest crack into my voice. “Can you?” I said again.

“We can. If”—he held up a finger—“you trust us.”

“Trust isn’t easy,” I said.

“I agree. But trust is going to have to be the foundation of our relationship if it’s going to work. You have to trust me.” He clapped his chest. “And I have to trust you. In that way, we can work toward a connection.”

“What sort of connection?”

“A human one.” His kind voice had grown even softer. “The only kind that matters. That’s what grief stems from, what pain stems from, Deforest—a lack of connection with other human beings. You’ve mislaid your trust in the past, had your faith in people broken, shattered even. You’ve been betrayed. Lied to. So you’ve chosen not to trust. And this protects you to some extent, I’m sure. But it also isolates you from the rest of humanity. You are disconnected. You are displaced. And the only way to find your way back to a place, to a connection, is to trust again.”

“And you want me to trust you.”

He nodded. “You have to take a chance sometime.”

“And why should I trust you?”

“Well, I’ll earn your trust. Believe me. But it’s a two-way street, Deforest.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“I need to trust you,” he said.