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“Everything’s too hard. And I know what to do now when I feel like that.” Charlie looked everywhere but directly ahead. The curtain quivered in the morning breeze, and she stared at a box of tissues at the edge of the coffee table. She looked down at her arms folded across her, keeping her upright. If she let go, she’d crumble.

“I’m glad you’ve come. Tell me more about the hard things.”

“My girlfriend, Elda, went home to care for her dying grandmother. She passed away.” Charlie’s voice broke. “I should’ve been there with her. But Kim came to the house that night with the children and needed my help.”

“Kim needed your help?”

“She turned up at my office a few months ago. It was just money at first, but then her boyfriend got violent. She thought he was going to hurt the kids, and she had to leave her flat. She’s desperate, and I’m the only one she’s got really.”

A.J. sat still and silent.

“You know. I’m the only person. I feel responsible for her. And the children.”

“Yes. I know this is something that you keep coming back to, Charlotte. That you feel responsible for Kim. Tell me why.”

“You know why.” She scraped her fingernails at her palms. She thought she’d left all this behind her, but here she was, unpacking her guilt in this room again. “Because I let Theresa die.”

“Did you?”

“I wasn’t there for her. I saw what was happening and didn’t do anything about it.” Charlie had said these words so many times, they were second nature.

“You’ve said that to yourself before. We’ve talked about it here. Let’s go back over the power that you feel you had over that situation back then.” A.J. shifted on her sofa. “Remind me how old you were back then?”

“I was fourteen when we met. I was seventeen when she died.”

“What do you think seventeen-year-old you should have done differently?”

“I should’ve seen what was happening and told her not to do it. I should’ve taken away the pain. I should’ve loved her more. I should’ve kept her safe.”

“Could you have done that, Charlotte?”

Charlie fell silent and heard her breath catching on its way in and out of her lungs. She recalled all the previous times in this office, going over the same arguments. The wave of relief hit her in the chest. She knew the answer by heart. “No. I couldn’t have. We’ve been over this before. I know.” She laughed at the absurdity of paying someone to tell you truths that she already knew. “I know I was a child. A powerless child. I had no weight with anyone around us at the time. I know all of this now, but that doesn’t stop me feeling so responsible.”

“You feel responsible for a lot of things.”

“People look to me to fix things. I look for things to fix. I sometimes think I attract people with broken bits.”

“What if you don’t fix things? What happens if people have to rely on themselves?”

“Kim is chaotic, and there will be all kinds of drama if she’s left to handle it.” Charlie tugged at the hair near her temples. “But I know I need to break this habit of her coming to me for money and for help. I know that it started because I was so ashamed of what happened.”

“Shame is a big feeling.” A.J. left a gap, but Charlie said nothing. “Who else needs fixing?”

“Elda. She’s a bit broken too, I think. Her family dynamic is so fucked up.”

“How do you feel about that?

Charlie rubbed at her fingers. If she couldn’t say the words aloud here, where could she? “I love Elda. I’ve never met anyone who has filled in parts of me. In a way, she’s fixedme.”

“Maybe.” A.J. crossed her legs. “Why did you need to see me today?”

“I know when I’m starting to feel unwell now. I can recognise feeling out of control, getting angry out of nowhere, and feeling so tired but not being able to sleep. And I’ve started to detach again. Like I’m watching myself.” She looked towards the corner of the room. “I said I’d come back if that happened again.”

“I’m glad you’re aware of those things happening to you. That’s real progress. What do you think you want to work on?”

“I want to get control. I want to feel more like myself. I want to be able to tell Kim she can’t rely on me anymore without feeling a tidal wave of guilt.”

“It’s okay to feel guilty for disappointing someone. That’s a normal response,” A.J. said.