Gerry had us go round and pick one of our squares to talk about to the group, and when it was my turn, my stomach lurched. I wasn’t really ever scared of talking in front of people, but for some reason, this time, even the thought of speaking what I was thinking made the world’s tiniest spiders take to crawling all over my skin; the words I wanted to say rang clear in my head, but got caught on my tongue. ‘I feel …’ I considered leaving it there. Just an announcement that yes, I did indeed feel. But they were all looking at me, so I needed to round the sentence off. ‘I kind of feel guilty for being alive at all.’ They were already quiet, but after I said that, it seemed like they got even quieter, somehow, like in movies right after a bomb goes off. I didn’t specify that I didn’t want any replies but no one gave me any regardless. I felt Leo looking at me.

Then Gerry had us participate in one of, what she called, her ‘hippie games’ – she had us all cross our arms over each other and grab the hand of the person next to us, then squeeze, so the squeeze would travel round the circle, as some positive energy transference, or something. When Leo squeezed, it was too hard, for too long – but I appreciated it. I think we understood each other. And I couldn’t help myself, I had to look at him, so I did, but his eyes weren’t narrowed, they were open, pained, and then he squeezed my hand again and nodded like I had just done something very important.

He sat next to me after group in the lobby while we both waited for our parents. ‘Hey. It’s none of my business, but is everything OK?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Not sure.’ He pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger. ‘You seemed a bit … heavy, in there.’ In there, like we’d just escaped mortal combat.

‘Yeah, don’t worry about it,’ I said. And I don’t know what came over me, but I thought he was trustworthy, and with Olivia all but gone I was sort of looking to get anyone on my side. There wasn’t any harm in him knowing. I wanted him to know. ‘Actually, it’s not, it’s all really fucked up, but are you sure you want to deal with this right now? It is kinda heavy.’

‘OK. Hit me.’

I lowered my voice. ‘When my dad died … OK, I’m gonna sound crazy, but I was, uh, worried – paranoid, I guess, that somebody had hurt him. That maybe someone was responsible for it. You know? It’s a long story, but he was a therapist, and I thought maybe one of the patients … you know?’

He scoffed. ‘You realize you’re a patient.’