“How did it go yesterday?” Dr. Cassano asked.
“Fine.” Moira sat opposite him, hands balled in her lap. Dr. Cassano’s office always smelled like soap and spicy aftershave, she reflected. Kind of like he’s running late and just took a shower.
“Good,” he replied. “Again…sorry about cancelling.”
She unclenched her hands and grasped the armrests of her chair. “So…do I start my medication today?”
He clicked his pen repeatedly. “I think I’m going to hold off for a couple more days. I’m still trying to determine what would suit you.”
A mixture of relief and worry twisted her gut. “Does that mean I’ll have to stay here longer?”
“No, not at all,” he assured her. “You’re still in treatment. I’m just unsure of which direction to go at this point.”
“Oh,” she replied, uncertain.
Dr. Cassano cleared his throat and fidgeted with his pen. Click, click, click. He set his pen down pointedly. “Can we discuss our last session?”
Moira had prepared herself for more questions and shrugged stiffly. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
“I think there is,” he countered. “There was a death that occurred at Mrs. Cook’s. Can we talk about that?”
Moira watched as Isabella circled behind him. She bit her lip.
“Moira,” Dr. Cassano said. “If we’re going to make any progress, you have to start trusting me. This seems upsetting to you, can you tell me why?” He shifted his weight forward to garner her attention. “Do you remember the child’s name?”
“Isabella.”
“Isabella,” he repeated. “One of the voices you hear.” He paused, seemingly trying to order his thoughts. “Is it the same girl?”
Moira clasped her hands in her lap again and nodded.
“Do you think there’s a reason for that?”
There were a dozen different answers she could give him. Moira found herself mute.
“Were you there when her death occurred?” he asked. “Can you tell me what happened?” Isabella continued to hover at his elbow. Dr. Cassano rubbed his collarbone and shifted his weight again.
For a moment, Moira thought he’d confess he saw both Jack and Isabella. That he would tell them to leave immediately, and they would. This is so messed up, she thought miserably. I hate being the only one who can see them. I hate it.
“Were you there?” Dr. Cassano probed gently.
“I don’t remember. It was a long time ago.”
“Do you remember anything?”
She dug at the brass tack on the armrest of her chair. He probably already knows everything, she thought. Well, almost everything. “We were playing on the swing in the backyard.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me, Liam and Isabella.” She bit her lip. “Isabella ran away.”
“Why did she run away?”
Moira shrugged.
“Did you follow her?”
“No.”
“Liar,” Isabella muttered.
“Did Liam follow her?”
“No,” Moira repeated, a little louder.
“Why did she run away?”
“I don’t know. She was always doing something.”
“By that, you mean…?”
“Getting into trouble. Causing trouble.”
“I never cause trouble!” Isabella said petulantly. “It’s you, Moira! You!” She stormed over to her. “You started it! I was just making fun!”
“I believe you, Isabella,” Jack said.
Shaking her head, Moira tried to appear unruffled. Between Isabella, Jack, and Dr. Cassano, she didn’t know where to look. She settled for staring at the gold name plaque that sat on his desk.
“You seem uncomfortable,” Dr. Cassano remarked. “What are you experiencing right now?”
Moira clenched her hands. She was not going to let Isabella or Jack get to her, not this time.
“It’s your fault I’m here!” Isabella yelled again. In a fit of rage, she pushed a stack of papers from the desk and retreated to the window.
Dr. Cassano half stood. “What—” Isabella pounded her fist against the glass and he turned with a start.
Moira dug her fingernails into her palms. “Can I go back to my room? I’m not feeling well.”
“Of course,” he said, appearing somewhat rattled. “We’ll continue with this tomorrow.”