Now, as Tilly smiled warmly as she came closer, guilt crept up Kate’s spine. She’d been glad for Papua New Guinea. Glad for the excuse it had given her to sever their ties. She’d been in love with a girl who could never give her what she so desperately wanted. She’d been glad that Tilly had gone.

“I want to know all about who you are and what you’ve done,” Tilly said with a slight tilt of her head. “I want to know who you’ve become.”

As their gazes locked and held, Kate swallowed. Tilly had always had a charismatic way of speaking.

“Well good thing we have a lot of time,” Kate said.

Seconds ticked by.

“You look—”

“—Congratulations, again—”

“Sorry,” Tilly said, her eyes widening.

“No, I’m sorry,” Kate said. “What were you going to say?”

Tilly shifted her grip around herself. “I was just going to say that you look so different. Still the same but…you look very healthy.”

It was hard to ignore the swell of pride that Tilly’s comment provoked, the sincerity glowing in her eyes as she raked her gaze over Kate’s body. Kate knew just how different she looked. In the midst of her parents’ messy divorce when she had been sent to St. Joan’s for repeatedly acting out in school, she’d been small and frail, riddled with anger, anxiety, and depression over the separation. A few months into Kate’s first year at St. Joan’s, the school counsellor had encouraged exercise, but she’d ignored it—she had Tilly now, and the days were getting easier, her grades better, her “bad attitude” improving. It had only been after graduation that Kate had learned how to use exercise to fight depression and anxiety, and spending time in city gyms had certainly helped her focus during the break up with Elodie. Now, at thirty, Kate was proud of her body, of her toned legs and strong back.

“Are you well?” Tilly asked tentatively.

“Totally fine. I’m in a really good place right now. Have been for a long time.”

Tilly pressed a hand to her sternum. “Kate…I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that. After all you went through with your parents’ divorce…”

A strange surge of melancholy hummed through Kate’s body. She raked a hand through her hair. “When I came here for the interview they told me about Sister Hattie…I’m so sorry, Til.”

Tilly’s fingers toyed with her necklace. “Thank you.”

“She was always my favourite of the sisters. She always checked in on me after my therapy appointments in the city, called home on the holidays to make sure I was doing okay. Sister Hattie did a lot to make sure I felt safe here. You both did.”

Tilly waved a hand, dismissing Kate’s gratitude.

“No,” Kate said firmly. “I was too young to fully appreciate you at the time and…it’s true. I really wasn’t mentally well enough to be boarding here and you bore the brunt of that. You were a kid, not a therapist. I wasn’t your problem.”