“I didn’t destroy her, I made a mistake. I think I can fix it. Fuck. I should have known better than to expect you to be fair, Vicky.”

The more agitated she got, the more my body ratcheted up the physical signs of tension. I tried to remain still, told myself flight was an option. I had a headache from where my neck and jaw were tense, and with that painful buzz in the back of my head, I tried to visualize it as a tactile reminder of the people behind me. Of refugees who needed that food.

Stupid, like a dumb mnemonic, but it helped me to process.

Every time I’d spoken, I was left feeling like I was risking pushing too far, or not pushing far enough. If I didn’t push enough, she lost momentum. If I pushed too far, she threw up walls.

And I didn’t really know her enough to know where those boundaries were now.

Here, I had zero idea. For the first time, I couldn’t even recognize enough of her to say.

“You know what the shitty thing is, Vicky? I told myself I wouldn’t say this. I was doing okay. At the Birdcage, after, figuring myself out, finding a balance, coming to terms with how much I hated myself… I’m rambling.”

The fingernails of my good hand dug into my leg. The fingernails of my injured hand touched my leg, two of them wobbly, barely attached. A reminder.

“I earned my stripes saving the world, I got offered work and money helping manage things behind the scenes, watching Bonesaw. I healed heroes now and then. I managed, I was doing okay. I repaired bridges with Carol, and I had an actual mom for the first time ever. Mark was cool, all considered. I was fine.”

“I didn’t do anything to stop that.”

“You—you kind of did. You appeared at the edges and fringes. You re-entered my life and it all went to pieces. Again and again.”

“All my fault.”

“No. But you didn’t make it easier, for yourself or for me.”

“By existing? By having a life? Normally, Amy, when someone does what you do, it’d be you who abides by a restraining order, who stays a certain distance away, or who gets locked up in a cell.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she told me. “It would have been best if one of us hadn’t made it through Gold Morning, that’s all.”

I maintained eye contact with her for long seconds, staring her down. She was the one to look away first.

“I don’t resent you, I’m on your side,” she said, looking at the door. “If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be here.”

“I thought you said that if I had an honest conversation with you, that you’d do what I asked.”

She shook her head.