“What kind of party was it?”
If Dr. Maillard was shocked by my revelation, she didn’t show it.
“A—a costume party?” I didn’t mean for it to sound like a question.
“Did you go with anyone?”
I nodded. “My brother, but he was meeting someone else.” The room started to feel warm.
“So you were alone?”
An image of Noah whispering to the fairy girl flashed before my eyes. Alone, indeed. “Yes.”
“Have you gone out much since you’ve moved?”
I shook my head. “Last night was the first time.”
Dr. Maillard smiled slightly. “Sounds like it could be stressful.”
At that, I snorted. Couldn’t help it. “Compared to what?”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You tell me.”
“Compared to having your best friend die? Or moving away from everyone you’ve ever known? Or starting at a new school so late in the year?”
Or finding out your father is representing an alleged murderer of a teenage girl? The thought appeared in my mind without warning. Without precedent. I pushed it away. Dad’s work was not going to be a problem for me. I couldn’t let myself be that damaged—if my mother noticed me stressing about it, she might make him drop the case, his first one since we moved. And with three kids in private school now, they probably needed the money. I’d screwed up their lives enough already. I decided not to mention it to Dr. Maillard. What we said was confidential, but still.
Her face was serious when she spoke. “You’re right,” she said, shifting back in her chair. “Let me ask you this: Was last night the first time you saw something, or someone, that wasn’t there?”
I shook my head, somewhat relieved that the focus of the conversation had shifted.
“Do you feel comfortable telling me about other things you’ve seen?”
Not particularly. I picked idly at the thread in my worn jeans, knowing how crazy I would sound. How crazy I already sounded. I said it anyway.
“I saw my old boyfriend, Jude, at school, once.”
“When?”
“My first day.” After I saw my Algebra classroom collapse. After Claire first appeared in the mirror. I bit my lip.
“So, you were already pretty stressed out.”
I nodded.
“Do you miss him?”
Her question caught me off guard. How did I answer that? When I was awake, I barely thought about Jude. And when I dreamed—it wasn’t exactly pleasant. I lowered my eyes, hoping Dr. Maillard wouldn’t notice my burning face, the only evidence of my shame. I was a bad person.
“Sometimes these things are complicated, Mara,” she said. Guess she noticed after all. “When we lose people who were important to us, there’s a whole range of emotions we might experience.”
I shifted in my seat. “Can we talk about something else?”
“We can, but I’d really like to stay with this for a little while. Can you tell me a little bit about your relationship?”
I closed my eyes. “It wasn’t much of one. We were only together for a couple of months.”
“Was it a good couple of months?”
I thought about it.
“Okay,” Dr. Maillard said, moving on. The answer must have been written all over my face. “How about your relationship with your best friend? You saw her since she died too, right?”
I shook my head. “That was Claire. She only moved to Laurelton last year. She was Jude—my boyfriend’s—sister. She was close with Rachel.”
Dr. Maillard’s eyes narrowed. “Rachel. Your best friend?”
I nodded.
“But she wasn’t close with you?”
“Not so much.”
“And you haven’t seen Rachel.”
I shook my head.
“Is there anything else? Anything you’ve seen that you shouldn’t have? Anything you’ve heard that you shouldn’t have?”
My eyes narrowed. “Like voices?” She definitely thought I was crazy.
She shrugged. “Like anything.”
I looked at my lap and tried to stifle a yawn. I failed. “Sometimes. Sometimes I hear my name being called.”
Dr. Maillard nodded. “How do you sleep?”
“Not so great,” I admitted.
“Nightmares?”
You could call them that. “Yes.”
“Do you remember any of them?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Sometimes. Sometimes I dream about that night.”
“I think you’re pretty brave to be telling me all of this.” She didn’t sound patronizing when she said it.
“I don’t want to be crazy,” I told her. Truthfully.
“I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“So it’s normal to see things that aren’t there?”
“When someone’s been through a traumatic event, yes.” “Even though I don’t remember it?”
Dr. Maillard raised an eyebrow. “Any of it?”