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you?”
    I thought over what he said while studying the books on his shelf, noticing that he had a few on meditation. He specialized in Dialectical Behavior Therapy, which blended standard cognitive behavioral techniques with acceptance and mindfulness, mostly derived from Buddhist meditative practice. Judging by other titles, he was also interested in philosophy. But I was avoiding his question.
    “No, I suppose not.…” I’d been worried that my having memories of an upsetting time in my life might make it hard to be objective, but he was right—there was no ethical reason I couldn’t keep working with Heather.
    “Maybe I should stay with her and play it by ear.”
    Kevin nodded in agreement. “If you need to talk about it again, just let me know.”
    “Thanks. I’ll see how she does over the next couple of days.”
    In the cafeteria, refilling my tea, I thought over the conversation. I’d left in an odd mood, uncomfortable somehow, but I wasn’t sure of the source. Was it because I’d shared something personal with a coworker? Someone I barely knew? I reminded myself that I hadn’t said much, and there was no reason to worry, but I still had the feeling that I’d just opened another door, one that it was too late to close.

 
    CHAPTER FIVE
    Looking back to those first months at the commune, before Aaron began to lead the group, I realize he wasn’t that old, only twenty-two, but to my teenage mind he was much older. He was so sure of himself, so confident about his decisions and opinions. No matter what the problem was, a fire that almost got out of control, low food supplies, rats in the grain, a sick animal, he never seemed worried. He would just think for a bit and come up with a solution, and it always worked. I’d never met someone who smiled so much, who always seemed happy and excited. For a child with a mother whose moods blew all over with the wind, and a father who was perpetually angry, it was confusing to meet someone who woke up each day like the world was full of wonderful things waiting to be discovered.
    It was shortly after my mom, Robbie, and I arrived that Aaron revealed a little about his background. We were sitting around the campfire one night, and he’d been playing his guitar, as he often did. It was amazing how he could pull a tune out of thin air, just from someone humming the first few bars of a song. Some of the little children were climbing all over him, as usual—they all loved him for the toys he carved out of wood and the piggyback rides he gave. One of them had fallen asleep leaning against Aaron, who stopped playing to pull the little boy into his lap. Another member asked Aaron if he ever wanted a family, and a distant look came to his eyes as he stroked the child’s hair.
    “You guys and Joseph are my family.” Aaron, who was from San Francisco, had joined the commune with his brother a couple of weeks before us. “We don’t have anyone else.” He glanced at Joseph, who was sitting quietly in a shadow by the fire, watching his brother. Aaron gave him a smile.
    A female member said, “You have no one?”
    He shook his head. “Nope, and good riddance. Our parents were just teenagers. After they had Joseph, my dad took off, leaving us with our mother. She was an alcoholic.”
    Aaron handed the little boy back to his mother, then lifted up his jeans leg, showing us small round scars up and down his shins. “These are from cigarettes.”
    Some of us gasped, or made sympathetic noises, and Joy, whom we’d met the first day, reached out to touch his shoulder. “That’s terrible.”
    “It wasn’t as bad as this.” He lifted the back of his shirt, revealing long red scars, the flesh raised and jagged-looking. “That’s from when she dragged me naked over broken glass because I’d tried to feed Joseph, after she forgot.” His face was angry as he dropped his shirt back down. “She only cared about herself.”
    I had never heard someone talking so openly about