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Jake saton the crowded couch next to Claire, with Dana flanking her other side. The girl fidgeted between them while Dr. Dvita droned on.

No wonder Claire didn’t like him. Some therapist! Weren’t the patients supposed to do the talking? How could someone share their inner demons with this guy if they couldn’t get a word in edgewise?

Dr. Dvita continued his lecture. “In my experience it’s not uncommon for patients with fragile constitutions like Nancy’s to repress unpleasant recollections. The incident from last night may have triggered something she’s unwilling or unable to face. It’s why I thought Nancy might benefit from meeting with another patient I’d been successfully rehabilitating.”

“Meredith?” Dana murmured.

“Yes. Meredith Kincaid. She goes by Laura at Passages. I’ve been quite pleased with how she’s been navigating her rehabilitation. And though she and Nancy suffered different past traumas, their post-traumatic symptoms were similar enough that I’d hoped they would benefit from sharing their struggles and triumphs.”

“Did it help?” Dana asked.

Dr. Dvita looked pointedly at Claire. “At first, I thought so.”

“At first? How many times did they meet?” Jake asked, his blood already boiling at the thought of Meredith freely roaming D.C. after nearly toppling Capitol Hill with the cult she’d killed for.

“Three times,” Dr. Dvita admitted. “But I soon realized another influence might be subjugating their progress.”

Jake hated the stuffy psycho-babble Dvita spouted. “English, please,” he muttered. “And can we stop with all the code names? We all know who you’re talking about.”

“It’s fine,” Claire said when Dr. Dvita looked for her approval.

“Another patient I was treating interjected his beliefs into the equation, and I found it counterproductive.”

“The man from the photograph,” Dana said, handing Jake the photo.

Claire sucked in a breath when the image passed under her line of sight. She closed her eyes and held her breath.

Dr. Dvita directed his attention to Claire. “We spoke about this, Claire. It’s what we were working on at the clinic, yes?”

Claire nodded.

“Do you remember the coping mechanisms I gave you?”

She nodded again.

“Shall we try them?” the doctor pressed.

Claire took three short breaths and released one long one. She repeated the sequence three more times until she opened her eyes, her breathing returning to normal.

“Good,” Dvita praised. “Now why do you think that photo provoked that reaction?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do know. You need to stop repressing reality. You’re in a safe space. You can recall your memories, no matter how traumatic.”

Claire flinched and Jake had enough. “If she says she doesn’t remember, she doesn’t remember.”

“Jake,” Dana warned. “That’s not helping.”

He leaned forward. “Well pushing her to relive something she’s not ready to isn’t helping either.”

Dr. Dvita intervened. “Your over-protective coddling is misguided, Agent Shepard. Claire is stronger than you give her credit for.”

Jake glared at the tiny man. “Which is it? She’s fragile or strong? You can’t have it both ways.”

“Actually, humans are remarkable that way. We have the capacity to be many things simultaneously.”

“Listen, Doc. You may have a bunch of letters after your name but that doesn’t give you the right to walk into my house and push the people I care about around.”

The foolish little man sat there unfazed. “I was under the impression that this was Dr. Gray’s home.”

Jake stood, not even making it a step toward the man before Dana was in his path.

“Okay! Let’s all take a breath. Everyone here has Claire’s best interest in mind, right?”

Both men nodded and Jake relented, taking his seat again at the behest of Dana’s glower.

“Why don’t we let Claire tell us what she can handle at the moment,” Dana suggested.

“She looked at the photo,” Jake argued. “She doesn’t remember what happened last night.”

Claire swallowed. “But maybe I can.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Jake replied.

“I know. But I want to know what happened.”

Dr. Dvita spoke. “Right now, all we know is that there was a fire at Passages last night and one of my patients was murdered.”

“Who?” Claire asked.

“I think it’s best if we don’t supplant images in your mind. Let them come to you naturally,” he replied.

“But you think I know who did it?”

“Only you can answer that question.”

“Okay,” Claire sat straighter. “Let’s begin.”