“You’re not listening,” Amy muttered. She wasn’t good enough at playing games to hide the hurt on her face. She’d wanted Jessica to listen. “You came here with these things you wanted to recommend because you think it’ll help Victoria, and no interest in hearing out my side.”

“I am absolutely listening, Amy. I do think you’re a good person. A hero, even.”

Amy fell silent, staring down into the empty lobby.

“These things I brought up, they’re for your sake, not Victoria’s. She benefits, sure, but that’s more because we all benefit when we’re all taking care of ourselves. Victoria as a subject clearly makes you profoundly unhappy. Distance or a severing of ties is good.”

Amy finished her iced tea, the speed at which she tossed the bottle back made it clink against her teeth. She was conscious of the minute amounts of pathogens in it. She could even run her hands down its length and get a sense of where the man who had fed the bottle into the machine had touched it, because he’d left bacteria behind with the faint oils of his hands.

Moving suddenly, Amy passed behind Jessica, giving the woman’s back a sidelong look.

Jessica leaned over the railing, and didn’t even flinch.

Another Marquis sort of move. Another test. Either Jessica was very good at bluffing, or she really did think Amy was heroic enough to not worry about the dangerous parahuman with a touch-based power passing within arm’s reach.

Amy dunked the bottle into the recycling bin.

“Thank you for the offer,” Amy said. “But I’m not crazy, I don’t need your colleague.”

“Again, it’s not for the mentally ill alone.”

“The stuff that isn’t mental illness is the kind of thing they can’t help with.”

“What about coping mechanisms?”

“I’m coping,” Amy said, shrugging. “I’m going to the mental fitness checkups. That’s what they pay attention to, isn’t it? Whether or not I’m coping?”

“It is.”

“I’m not happy, I’m lonely, but coping just means you’re dealing with some difficult stuff. That’s the difficult, and I’m dealing, according to the people who do the checkups. Yes?”

“I talked to them before talking to you.”

Great. More rumors about me losing it. “And?”

“And they sounded satisfied.”

“And you believe in them? Your colleagues? Because oh man, I’ve worked with Riley, I’ve heard about James Rinke, I’ve checked on a few of the others, and if you’re not confident that these guys checking on the guards and staff aren’t really good at what they do, then holy shit, we are fucked.”

“Okay,” Jessica said, hands raised. “For what it’s worth, I do believe them. And I believe you. You say you’re coping well enough, alright.”

They were words Amy hadn’t heard enough. ‘I believe you’.