"So you're back at school."

I nodded from my armchair. "Yup."

"How is that going?"

I shrugged. "It's okay. People aren't staring as much, which is nice."

Dr. Blake was wearing a brown turtleneck today. "Why do you think that is?"

"Social media and a culture of instant access has led to shorter attention spans?" I wasn't sure why I was being so sarcastic with her. I had had an okay day at school, nothing bad had happened. I was just feeling irritated by her relentless questions that I never seemed to be able to answer.

She smiled and twirled her pen in her fingers. "Someone is a little sassy today."

"Well I don't know why they aren't staring. I'm just glad they've moved on."

She tilted her head slightly. "Have you moved on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you feel like you've moved on, or that you would like to?"

"Are you kidding me? I would love to. But I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's everywhere. Every time I open Facebook or Twitter, there's a new story about some guy who sexually assaulted some girl. I was flipping back through the calendar we keep in our kitchen so I could double check something, and there it was, in sharpie, 'JJ at Ron's.' Written over and over, every other weekend. I ran into a kid from school and his mom at the grocery store, and she offered to send us a freaking casserole. It never stops."

"You wish everyone would just pretend like it didn't happen."

"Well… Yeah. A little bit."

"Why?"

I took a deep breath. "So I can move on and stop dwelling on it."

She leaned back in her chair. "Would you say you've moved on from your sister's death?"

"I'm really not in the mood to talk about Ros."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to!" I snapped. Something flickered in her eyes, but she didn't say anything. I knew I was being a bitch. I gritted my teeth and tried again. "No. I'm obviously not. I feel like I was, but now everything has gone to shit, and it's a wreck. I'm a wreck."

"You're not a wreck."

"Really? What do you call going seventy five miles an hour down a two lane road in January? Just a fun outing? I almost crashed the car."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What happened?"

I was already regretting bringing it up. "It was… nothing. We went to the library-"

"We?"

"My mom and I. We went to the library, and on the way back I wanted to stop at the cemetery."

"To visit Rosalind's grave?"

"No, I thought it'd be a good place to grab a latte. Yes. I went to see Ros. And then when I was driving back, I just… I don't know, I lost it for a second. I couldn't breath and I couldn't feel my hands and I just pressed down on the pedal and then my mom was screaming and the car was skidding."

"Did you crash?"

"No. She helped me come to a stop."

"Did something happen at the cemetery?"

I glared at her. A car sped by on the street below, their engine roaring. "I yelled at Ros."

"Why?"

"Why? I don't know, Dr. Blake. Probably because I was pissed."

"You know, it's okay to be angry. It's healthy, natural even."

"I know that."

She paused for a moment. "Are you mad at your mom?"

I picked at the skin on my thumb. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Super sure."

"Do you feel like she should have done something more to protect you?"

"Why are you blaming this on her?"

Dr. Blake sighed. "I'm not, JJ. I'm just asking if there is a part of you that might be upset with her."

"Well I'm not."

"It seems like you are. Did you ever tell her about the abuse? Before the day at the school, I mean."

I began to laugh, even though I didn't find this the least bit funny. "No, I didn't. I didn't tell anyone."

"Did you want to?"

"Yes!"

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because- Because it's just… I don't know!"

"Why didn't you tell her sooner?"

"Because he's my dad!" I cried.

"Yes, and she's your mom."

"It's…" I trained my eyes on the potted plant she had hanging in the corner of her office. "Because I didn't want to talk about it." I whispered. "Because if I didn't talk about it, it wasn't happening." I waited for her to say something, but she didn't. "He… he's not evil. Not really. He's a good dad. He cares about us."

"Do you really feel that way?"

"Most of the time he was a great dad. He never talked down to us, never hit us."

"Except he did."

"Just that one time."

"The one time is enough, JJ." Her voice finally had a color of exasperation in it.

"I'm just saying… Apart from that, when you take away what happened at night, he was a good dad. And as long as I didn't think about it, it was like it didn't happen. So I didn't tell anyone."

"Why do you think you finally did?"

"Is our hour nearly up?"

"We have twenty minutes left. Why did you finally tell?"

I shut my eyes. "Because I was cornered."

"Why do you say that?"

"They had my paper, they just kept asking me about it. They asked if it was Coach Hotchner, if it was my step dad."

"It wasn't."

"I know that!"

"Why did you tell?"

"My mom said… She wanted… she wanted to call my dad. She said he could come to the school and I could talk to him, if I didn't want to talk to her."

"Are you maybe mad that she forced you to tell? Forced you to confront what was happening?"

I stared blankly ahead. "I already told you: I'm not mad at her."

Dr. Blake shuffled the papers in my file around a bit. "JJ, despite what you say, I think you are mad at your mom." I scoffed but she continued. "Hear me out. I think you're mad at your mom, from the sound of it I think you're mad at Rosalind, I think you're mad at me for not shutting up, but in actuality, I don't think you're really mad at any of us. You're mad at your dad."

"Well of course I'm mad at him."

"Have you bothered to say it out loud?"

"What?"

She leaned forward in her chair. "In the year since this started, have you ever once let yourself be mad at your father? Really angry?"

"Well… after the party when we got in that fight-"

"Not yelling in the moment. Have you just let yourself acknowledge that what he did was wrong, and that you didn't deserve to be treated this way by someone you trusted?"

"Well I-" I found myself at a loss for words. Of course I had. Why was she asking such stupid questions?

"I think the feelings are there, but you're refusing to acknowledge them. Because above all else, more than anyone else, you're mad at yourself." I stared at her, my jaw clenched. "You're shouldering far more blame in this than you should. I know you're in high school, but you're really still a child, JJ. You didn't deserve- where are you going?" I had jumped up from my armchair. I seized my backpack and tugged it onto my shoulder as I strode towards the door.

"JJ wait! We need to finish this- You can't run from it!" She called, but I kept going. I left her office and took off down the hall. I pushed open the wooden door into the waiting room, and it banged against the wall behind it. I continued out of the office, ignoring the crowding thoughts of my brain.

That night, as I laid in bed texting Will, my mom came in. She sat gently on the edge of my bed, watching me without a word.

"What's up?" I finally asked.

"Dr. Blake called me."

"Yeah?"

"She seemed a bit worried about today's session."

"Good for Dr. Blake."

"JJ." She took a deep breath. "She's worried about you."

I sat down my phone and turned to look at her. "She says I'm mad."

"Well… To be fair, just Monday I remember you also said you were mad."

"She says I'm mad at you."

Her eyes went wide with shock. "Oh. And… and are you?"

"No, Mom."

"Then why does she think that?"

I rubbed my head. "I… I don't know." She didn't say anything, but merely rubbed my leg gently through the blanket. I jerked away. "Can… Please don't." She folded her hands in her lap.

"I'm sorry."

"I just…" I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling. "She thinks I'm mad at you for not keeping me safe." I whispered.

"Well… That would make two of us."

I sighed. "No, Mom. I'm not."

"Is it okay if I lay down?" I nodded and she lowered herself down so that we were both lying with our heads on the pillows, me underneath the blankets, her on top.

"What else does she think?"

"That I'm blaming you for making me tell. Which is just stupid…"

"You can be, you know. Mad. I can handle it."

"I'm not mad at you."

"I think you're choosing to be mad at Rosalind, because she isn't here. Because she can't be mad back. And because you know she won't be hurt by you being mad."

"You sound like Dr. Blake."

"Well, am I wrong?"

"I don't know."

"Who else are you mad at?"

"I'm not mad at you." I repeated stubbornly. She didn't respond. "She thinks I'm unable to be mad at Dad." She nodded slowly.

"Is… Is that true?"

"I… don't know, Mom. I feel like I'm drowning in all of this awfulness."

"I can understand that."

"More than anything I just feel like I'm sick of feeling."

She sighed. "I know, sweetie."

"I feel like I'm being a huge bitch to people, but I don't know how to stop."

"Like who?"

"Well I definitely wasn't a ball of sunshine to Dr. Blake before I stormed out of my session like an asshole."

"I'm sure she's seen worse."

"Probably."

She sat up. "Alright. Well I just wanted to check in on you, see how you were doing. I'll let you get to bed."

"Mom?"

"Yeah, Jen?"

"Could… Would it be okay if you stayed in here? For just a little bit, you don't have to like sleep in here. I just… Would you?"

She smiled. "Of course." She laid back down. "Do you want me to play with your hair like when you were little?"

"No, just… be here." We laid in silence, my breathing eventually matching hers, until I drifted off to sleep.