“That’s different. This would be time set aside for you to talk through those feelings of numbness, your frustration, your fears. It wouldn’t cost you anything except a couple of hours out of every week, I got permission from the Wardens, they’ll cover it if I say it’s needed.”

“Great!” Amy exclaimed. “Hey! That’s fantastic, knowing the guys at the top are signing the papers saying I’m crazy and I need enough help they’ll pay money for it. Everyone seems to think this, apparently.”

“They don’t have your name. You talked about brownie points earlier. I used mine. That’s all this is.”

“I’m not crazy,” Amy said. “Really. I’m lonely. I had a bad day years ago, I freaked out, and I wasn’t myself for a while. Now nobody’s willing to forgive me, even people I don’t even know. And the most fucked up thing about it—excuse me. I shouldn’t swear here.”

“It’s not a church, Amy. Some swearing is fine. But if you’re finding yourself using swear words when you usually wouldn’t, it might be a good indicator we should pause the conversation and calm down.”

Amy drank more of her iced tea. She pulled the bottle away from her mouth and indicated the statue in the center of the lobby, the motion forceful enough the bottle almost slopped over, despite being only a third full. “Heroes, right?

“They are,” Jessica said.

“You’re a hero,” Amy said.

“I don’t have powers.”

“You don’t need powers to be a hero. You’re a hero, I think. I don’t know if you’re a good therapist—” Amy stopped short of saying she suspected Jessica wasn’t a good therapist, given how little Amy felt she was being listened to, but it wouldn’t help anything if she voiced that out loud, “—but you’re a therapist. You chose that career. You put a lot of energy and time into helping people who need that help. Doctors, nurses, I spent a lot of time around them as Panacea. All heroes.”

“I like that,” Jessica said.

“You’d think heroes, powers or not, would be more forgiving. You’d think people who have had trigger events would be more forgiving of other people’s traumatic events, where that other person isn’t thinking straight.”

“What happens in the past is the past,” Jessica told her.

“Bull—!” Amy started. Her expression twisted. Quieter, she finished, “—shit.”

“It’s what you do moving forward that matters. Talking to my colleague and taking extra care with boundaries would be a good start.”