‘Yes, of course! Free country,’ said Forest brightly. ‘Apparently.’ He looked over at the sealed windows.

She raised an eyebrow. When she took a seat nearby, Zeus sat up and growled more loudly. Frankie quickly leapt off, then laughed. ‘Maybe I should sit over here?’ She perched on the end of a suede couch.

‘Maybe you should,’ said Forest, patting Zeus’s head. ‘Good boy.’

She raised both eyebrows at that. A half-smile. ‘So we’re not even trying to be subtle anymore, Forest?’

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ he said.

‘You know what?’ She stretched out on the couch, looking around the room, nodding to herself. ‘I’ve realised you don’t know much about me. We always talk about you, Forest, but never talk about me . . . so what should I tell you? Hmm . . . well, Ivy hired me. And I specialise in cases like yours. So you can relax – I can see that you’re tense right now.’

She wasn’t even looking at him. Forest relaxed his body, and then, feeling his guard drop, immediately tensed right back up.

‘You gave everyone a scare last night,’ continued Frankie. ‘Do you wanna tell me about it?’

‘I thought we were talking about you,’ said Forest.

‘Sorry. Habit. What do you want to talk about, then?’ said Frankie.

‘Not what you want to talk about,’ countered Forest.

‘Yes, well, you know what I want to talk about, but you never seem to want to go there. What happened to you? Where are your parents? Who gave you those tattoos? Et cetera, et cetera . . . I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired.’ It was a lie – she’d ask him again the moment he relaxed. ‘So, again: what do you want to talk about?’ said Frankie.

‘When will I be able to go back to Shacktown?’ he asked.

‘Well, you see, Forest . . . now that Dr Joseph has discharged you, that decision is entirely up to Ivy, as your guardian. And, I’m afraid, she’s put that decision down to me. So . . .’

Zeus growled, echoing Forest’s mood.

What to do? How should he play this game?

‘Alright,’ said Forest, releasing a massive breath. ‘Let’s talk about it, then.’

She leaned forward an inch. ‘Yes?’

‘Let’s talk about the trauma.’

‘Good. Let’s talk about the trauma.’

‘But . . . I mean, if you specialise in . . . what did you say? Cases like mine?’ She gave him an encouraging nod. ‘How can I be sure? Like, what can you tell me?’ He smiled innocently. ‘Before I say anything, I mean. I am a traumatised boy, after all.’