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I feel small. Weak. But I don’t have enough fight left to remedy it. He’s too overwhelming, the smell of him dizzying.

Unable to help myself, I gaze at his lips, which soften and open. “Leave, please,” he whispers.

My eyes burn. Am I going to cry? Why?

What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’m sorry,” I say, ducking my head as I step unsteadily past him.

I make it to the door and am reaching for the knob when he speaks.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Amelia. The fault is mine.”

Why does that make me feel so much worse?

I leave his office, walk blindly into the Fish Tank, and sit down on one of the couches. My skin crawls. My heart pounds. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes and swallow the knot in my throat.

“What’s the matter with you?”

I look up at Kinsey, who sits with a magazine on the couch opposite mine. Her breasts and ass are barely contained in a pink halter top and white shorts. Platinum hair is piled high on her head, and the smell of peach body spray is overpowering.

As hard as she is to miss, I hadn’t noticed her in the room.

“I’m losing my mind,” I answer.

She frowns—or at least, I think she does. It’s hard to tell with all the Botox.

“Shouldn’t you still be in therapy? Or did you run away?”

“He kicked me out.”

Her eyes widen. “Holy shit, really?”

I nod, and she smirks.

“I’m actually kind of impressed. No one’s ever seen Leo anything but, you know, all ‘I’m a superhuman shrink unaffected by everything.’ Bravo, chiquita.”

I don’t know what to focus on. Perhaps the fact she’s never spoken so many words to me before, or that she sounds almost nice? But only one word sticks between my ears.

“Leo?” I echo.

Kinsey nods, her attention back on her magazine. “Leonardo. Hot name for a hot man, right? I’d do him for sure.”

My chest squeezes and I eventually recognized the urge to laugh. So I do, chuckling as I drop my head back to stare at the nearest glassy black bowl on the ceiling.

I tell the cameras, “If I wasn’t crazy before, I definitely am now. Good work, Doc.”

Kinsey giggles. “You’re funny, Mia.”

I eye her skeptically. “Why are you being nice to me?”

She glances up from her magazine. “Nix said you’re actually pretty cool. Do you want me to do your makeup for his going-away party tonight?”

Nope, definitely not.

“Sure,” I force out.

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