“It’s so nice to see you again,” he said. “Please, have a seat.”

His office had a desk in the corner, but Lila had never seen him behind it. Instead, they sat across from each other in leather chairs separated by a mahogany coffee table. A shelf behind the desk held some books, but beyond that, the office had been decorated like a fine parlor. Wood trim, Persian rugs, and oil paintings—abstract pastels hanging on the taupe walls—gave the room a soothing ambience.

Lila and Dr. Roberts took seats in the very chairs they’d sat in eight years ago, as if nothing had changed, but to Lila everything had. She wasn’t the same girl who shook with anger as they cut through the tangle of her past. But then she thought about how she’d seized up at Gavin Spencer’s hearing and felt as if those eight years had never happened.

“I’ve often wondered how things worked out for you,” he said.

“Honestly, life’s pretty good,” she said. “I went to college, like I said I would. And then law school. I’m working at the Hennepin County Attorney’s Office. And I’ve been sober now for…” She paused to think back to the date of her suicide attempt—the last time alcohol had passed her lips. “Eight years and forty-three days.”

Roberts received this news with a satisfied smile, which stayed for only a moment before he turned serious and said, “And yet here you are.”

Lila squirmed in her chair, the way she had back then. “It’s just that…something happened, and I think it goes back to the night I was raped.”

Raped. It felt strange to say that word. Her mother would leave the room if ever Lila used it. Even around Joe, Lila had taken to saying things like “the night I was assaulted,” or “the night of the attack.”

Dr. Roberts settled back into his chair, a cue to Lila that she had his full attention.

“I was in court, doing a first appearance—that’s when they bring people in to have their bail set—and this guy came in. I’ve never seen him before—at least, I don’t think so—but when he spoke, I…I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Take your time,” Dr. Roberts said. “Just tell me one detail at a time.”

Lila took a breath and willed her heart to slow down. When she was ready, she said, “I felt a chill flush through me, but it was warm, too, like the way you feel just before you throw up. And I couldn’t talk. I tried, but it was like all the air drained out of my lungs and I couldn’t fill them up again. Then I started shaking. It scared the hell out of me.”

“Had anything like that ever happened before?”