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Kierse’s head was buried in the memory fortification book. “This stuff is going to give me a headache.”

“Probably,” he agreed.

She glanced out the window as they crossed over into the Bronx. “I still can’t believe we’re going to Covenant. The last time we were there, you sent Edgar to smash up their equipment.”

“I made a donation to the center afterward,” he said dismissively. “I agree with what they’re doing. We need a hospital for monsters as much as the ones we have for humans. We have ailments that only magic can help or only monster doctors can assess.”

“And Dr. Mafi?” Kierse asked.

“The same.”

“Not pleased to see you. Helping you for…reasons?”

He shrugged. “We’ll ask her when we get there.”

The last time that she had seen Dr. Mafi, they’d been in Third Floor and she’d held them at gunpoint. She was surprised that Graves would ever forgive Mafi, let alone trust her. But perhaps she had proven herself in the end.

They pulled into a back lot behind the hospital.

A sliding glass door directed them into a brightly lit lobby, and Graves bypassed the woman at the front in peach scrubs.

The Covenant was not just a monster hospital—it was also a coven of witches, who used their powers for healing.

Kierse had been appalled when she had first learned that anyone would want to help monsters, but she had come around to the idea that everyone needed assistance.

They passed through a long corridor, stopping in front of a closed office door. He knocked twice, and the door swung open to reveal a beautiful woman in teal scrubs, a matching hijab, and a white coat.

“Hello, Emmaline,” Graves said.

Dr. Mafi blew out a heavy sigh. “I got your message.” Her eyes flicked to Kierse. “In trouble again, I see.”

“And you?” Kierse asked. “Staying out of it yourself?”

Dr. Mafi pointed across the hall. They stepped into an empty patient room, and Mafi closed the door before answering, “I’m only doing this because you killed Louis. My debt was cleared, and now I’m free again.”

“I was glad to do it,” Kierse said.

“Of course, now I owe you one, instead,” Mafi said with a shake of her head. “Not how I wanted that to happen. Well, nothing to be done for it. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

Kierse glanced at Graves. “How much did he tell you?”

“I’d rather hear it in your own words.” Dr. Mafi shot Graves a pointed look. “You can wait in the lobby if you’d prefer.”

He crossed his arms and stared at her. Dr. Mafi’s relationship with Graves was fraught at best. They had been close before the Monster War while she was getting her medical degree. When things hadn’t worked out, he’d paid for her to finish, and she’d owed him for that ever since.

Kierse cleared her throat. “I learned recently that I had a spell put on me that made me forget my past. Since the spell…came down, my memories have been jumbled. I’ve tried several magical ways to recover them, but we’re—I’m—concerned that there might be something else wrong.”

Mafi’s gaze slipped to Graves. “There’s something that you can’t figure out?”

“We’re in your capable hands,” Graves said.

She narrowed her eyes at him as if he’d insulted her. “Tell me what you’ve tried so far.”

So Kierse took her through the magical treatment she’d tried from the market and her work with Graves. Mafi listened intently, asking questions and jotting down notes on a clipboard as Kierse explained. “So, Graves suggested that the issue might not be simply magical.”

Mafi nodded. “As much as I hate agreeing with him, it does sound possible. There are some tests we can run to see if there’s any damage to your brain, since you mentioned previous falls,” Mafi began.

“I’ll set you up for an MRI first to rule out that possibility.

Then we can discuss other options once we have the results in. ”

Mafi went for the door, but Graves put his hand on it. “You’re going to keep your findings to yourself this time, right?”

She bristled under his scrutiny. “I’m a professional.”

“You were last time, too.”

“Then find someone else,” she challenged him. Graves stared her down, but it was Mafi who looked away first. “I won’t share it.”

“Good,” he said and released the door.

They ran a series of tests on her brain, all of which sucked in some way.

The idea that her brain was somehow permanently damaged, either from Jason’s abuse or the spell, had never occurred to her.

She had been worried about magical interference, not normal human stuff.

It unsettled her to think that could be the problem.

Afterward, Kierse and Graves returned to the patient room to wait for the results. Almost an hour later, Mafi knocked and then entered. “Sorry about the wait. There was an emergency.”

“That’s all right,” Kierse said.

“I want to say first that the testing came back fine. Your MRI shows a very healthy brain.”

Kierse released a breath. “That’s good.”

“Yes. It’s very good, considering the potential brain trauma you discussed with me in your past. I don’t know if that spell helped you, or if your magic shielded you from worse pain, but whatever the case, that isn’t an issue here.”

“So…it’s just the spell, then?”

Mafi leaned back against the wall and considered. “I’m not sure that’s all it is. It’s not a brain injury. There’s no damage, that’s very clear. But I would think that, after everything you went through, you’re dealing with a significant amount of trauma.”

“Oh.”

Kierse glanced up at Graves, but he was as unreadable as ever. As if he didn’t want his opinion of the topic to influence however she was feeling. Not that she knew exactly what that was.

“The loss of your parents, your life on the streets, the subsequent Monster War.” Mafi glanced at Graves.

“Working with a certain warlock. All of it has left its mark on you. If not physically, then mentally. The Monster War alone is enough trauma for any one lifetime. The fact that you went through it all.” She splayed her hands out. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I had a tough life.”

“Yes,” Mafi said with a short laugh, “but not just that. Trauma can cause all sorts of changes in your brain and how it responds to stimuli. While common responses are anxiety and depression, it can shape who you are in other ways, like hyper-independence.”

Kierse blinked at her. “Okay? What does that have to do with my memories?”

“The spell might have taken your memory, but it’s possible that you repressed those memories all on your own as well. That what happened to you was so traumatic, your brain shut itself off from the pain.”

“Oh,” she said with wide eyes. “That sounds…possible.”

“You might find that as you work through these memories, whether with Graves,” she gestured to the walking memory machine in the room, “or alone, you might need to process them afterward, separately. Possibly with a professional.”

“Wait. Are you suggesting therapy?” Kierse asked with a stilted laugh.

“What’s wrong with therapy?”

“I don’t see how talking about my problems is going to fix them.”

“You’re the only one who can fix your problems.” Her pointed glance at Graves was telling. “But therapy gives you an outside perspective from a third party who isn’t involved in your life. They might help you see it from another angle. We have a psychiatrist on staff…”

“A psychiatrist?” Kierse asked. “And that’s different than a therapist?”

“A psychiatrist can do everything a licensed therapist can do and also prescribe medicine.”

“Medicine,” she said skeptically. “You think I need medicine?”

Mafi arched an eyebrow. “At this time, no, but I want to recommend the best specialist for you. And luckily, we have the best in the business for monster-human psychiatry.”

“Are you sure I’d need that?”

“I plan to treat your brain the same way I would any other organ. Your mental state is as important as your physical state. If you broke your leg, you wouldn’t shrug off seeing a specialist for the injury.”

“If we could afford it.”

“Money doesn’t seem to be a problem anymore,” she quipped. “So let’s keep our mind open, shall we? We can get a lot farther together if we all look at this as a combination of magic and science. You came to me for my specialty. If I need to steal something, I’ll come to you. Got it?”

“Sure,” Kierse said.

Mental health just wasn’t talked about on the street.

When your entire life was centered around survival, dealing with your trauma any way other than finding your next meal and keeping a roof over your head wasn’t possible.

She’d never looked into her past even when it seemed to have gaps.

She hadn’t wanted to know what she’d find.

“So what’s your suggestion, Emmaline?” Graves asked finally.

Mafi met his gaze warily. “Our most distinguished psychiatrist, Dr. Carrión, is back home in Peru at the moment. Her specialty is monster mental health in a post-Monster War New York City. I would suggest Kierse come to see her when she returns. I can let you know when that is.”

Graves looked at Kierse. She blew out a breath and nodded. “Done,” he said.

Mafi handed Kierse a bunch of paperwork about the benefits of therapy and told her to read through it.

“More homework,” she mused. Her eyes found Graves as they headed to the car. “Why do I always have homework when I see you?”

“Always trying to make you a brain and not just a little thief.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can be both.”

“You can,” he agreed. “But you usually think what’s the most trouble I can barrel straight into first, and the stop-and-think part comes second.”

“Fair,” she conceded as she slid into the backseat. “You were quiet in there. I know you have thoughts about what Mafi said.”

“I want what’s best for you.” He tapped the book in his hands. “Which means mental fortifications and memory work and yes, even therapy, if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah,” she said, biting down on her lip. “I don’t know how I feel about therapy.”

“Color me shocked.”

She laughed. “What? That doesn’t surprise you?”

“Very few things surprise me. You almost always do,” he conceded. “But not in this. You’ve been on your own your entire life. You thought your mother died and your father abandoned you. The only person you’ve ever let in is Gen.”

“I let you in,” she said, lifting her chin. “And learned why I shouldn’t have.”

He stilled at her comment. “As I said, I’m here to prove you wrong about that.”

“It’s a work in progress.”

He was working on it. She could see that he was changing. She just didn’t know if it was a forever change. She’d been fooled once. She didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

“I’ll take it.”