“People are going to try,” Jessica said. “And it’s okay that they’re trying and finding ways to deal with it, however flimsy those reasons might seem on the surface. People would lose their minds if they took it at face value.”

“Because they’re weak.”

“Let’s not get caught up in retreads of things we discussed our first and second sessions,” Jessica said.

Ashley shrugged. “Fair.”

“Going back to the topic of this approach, you can decide if you want to explore this, in part or in full, even choosing key things to focus on, saving it for a rainy day when you’re not up for a regular session.”

Ashley looked at the pad of paper beside Jessica. Jessica turned it around to make it easier to read.

Shorthand, but it was the scene. The house, Dad, her mother, running away. Ashley looked away.

“I want to keep doing it. It clarifies things,” Ashley said.

“You do? Okay. I’ll look deeper into this, do reading myself or see if I can find someone who specializes in it. I can’t make promises in either area.”

“Please,” Ashley said. The word sounded alien, uncomfortably echoing memories that were too sharp in her head.

“Is there anything particular you want to focus on, moving forward? You talked about clarity.”

Ashley reached beneath long hair to rub at her neck. “That. I also want to dig out the moments I was proud of. The successes.”

“That’s a good direction to take. Happy memories?”

“Not happy, no. Not unhappy. When Riley put me together, she chose a time and place to go back to.”

“She did, yes.”

Ashley stood, pacing. Jessica was faintly wary, sitting back for a wider view of Ashley’s field of movement as Ashley moved in front of, then behind the couch.

“Articulate what you’re thinking,” Jessica said. “We can outline the goals you want to set and if it’s constructive, we can pursue those goals.”

“Not me, as I was when I died, but me when I was at my best. Too much of it’s lost in the fog for something that’s supposed to be my starting point.”

Ashley held her tongue on the rest of it. There was more to it, but if she told Jessica, then Jessica wouldn’t help.

☽

Edict knocked on glass, and gave a small wave to Shandra, who sat at the reception desk, nose in paperwork. Shandra smiled and waved back, before mouthing words. Complaining about the lack of coffee or donuts. It was her turn.

Edict walked backward, tapping her wrist where her watch would normally be.

She walked past men and women, aged twenty-five to sixty. People glanced at her, some smiled. There were some who liked to joke or poke fun, but she might have looked serious, because they were quiet today. She really hoped they weren’t being quiet because they knew what was happening.