What I leave out is the man with the peppermint schnapps and the boy in the yellow waistcoat, the woman with galaxies in her eyes and the magician with the painted face. The skeletons on parade the night Moony died. The cloak full of stars. The color of falling.

Because I don’t want Daniel’s face to change. I don’t want that expression of interest and compassion and affection to go away, to become something uncertain or fearful or distant. Because all the other things I do tell him are my mom’s things, but these—these encounters I can’t explain—are mine. And for the first time in my life, I cannot point to my mother’s mental illness as the reason for my suffering.

When I’m finished, Daniel leans back and props an elbow up on the back of the booth. He lets out a low whistle. “That’s some history you got.”

I hold my breath, realizing I’ve said too much. I am a package deal. You never get just me. You get me plus the crazy mom plus the dead grandmother plus, plus, plus…All those pluses are bound to scare most people off. But Daniel looks cool as crushed ice. “So?” I finally ask. “Are you regretting getting me this job?”

He leans in. “Are you kidding me? I’m regretting I didn’t meet you until a few days ago.”

My heart flops. I eye him warily.

“Cat, you’ve been through a lot, stuff most people could never imagine, and you’re still standing. Do you know what that says about you?”

I shake my head, an embarrassing lump forming like a fist in my throat.

“You’re strong, girl. And you’re deep. You have a lot to offer because of your experiences, not in spite of them.”

I let out an anxious breath. “Are you sure you’re real? I’m not hallucinating you or anything?” It wouldn’t be the first time, I think uncomfortably.

Daniel laughs. “Nah, I’m real. I just know how it feels to stand in the middle of a shitstorm and wonder which way is up. My parents had a bad split followed by a few rough years while they processed their denial. I was young, but I remember that feeling, like it would never change, never get better, like either everyone around you was losing it, or you were already lost.” He stands up. “Come on, we gotta get you home so you can get some sleep. You got a big day tomorrow.”

“But I’m not on the schedule,” I tell him. “Neither are you.”

“I know,” he says grinning. “But as my mawmaw Barb always says, this mess ain’t gonna clean itself. I don’t know about you, but I think we should start with the tarot deck and that Halloween card you found. Seems like the easiest piece of your puzzle to place.”