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under your eyes.”
    Sadie glanced to the fish tank, unnerved. “Maybe I have allergies?” Jen complained allergies gave her dark circles. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sneezed but no one else did either.
    “ Hmm.” Another vacuous silence.
    The emptiness made her want to chatter, to stand up and pace the thin brown carpeting, tap her finger on the tank’s glass. Agitate something. She settled for a deep ragged breath. How many minutes left now? When would Heather spring her latest angle? She always had one.
    “ Last session,” Dr. Meyers said, flipping a page on her notepad. “Last session you mentioned dating as a possible goal.”
    Why oh why had she gone and revealed that awful truth? Dr. Meyers had a way of seducing all of her secret hopes out. The image of the toppled cart, the look on his face, peeled through her mind. Hot disappointment coursed through her. “I’m not sure about dating any more,” she said.
    She got up and walked to the fish tank, gripping her armpits. Tapping the glass would be cruel and revealing. Dr. Meyers always listened in all these long silences. She listened to Sadie’s body language. Every shout of her fidgeting, tattle-tale body. But, what was Heather doing?
    Probably seething.
    Dr. Meyers rotated her chair to follow Sadie’s trail. “What caused you to change your mind about dating?”
    Sadie faced her. She shrugged non - committally, scared speaking would bust the dam wide open. “I don’t feel completely like myself and I want to be me again first.”
    “ Sadie, you need to accept the fact that this is your new normal,” Heather interjected.
    “ So, we can’t discuss getting off meds?”
    “ No, we can discuss it,” Dr. Meyers said. “With Dr. Fox.”
    Sadie sat back down, sinking into the sofa.
    Her breathing grew easier, her body telling her their hour was closing. Heather hadn’t forced the moving issue. Sadie pulled a tendril forward and let herself envision walking to the bus stop, putting on her headphones, getting on the bus….
    “ Sadie’s been journaling,” Heather said. “And she refuses to let me read them.”
    Sadie’s stomach bucked. Dr. Meyers didn’t speak but her gaze held to Sadie’s, the question in them clear. Is this true? Sadie rolled her eyes. Yes. It was true. She didn’t want Heather to see who she wrote about. Or what. And she’d bet her trust fund that her words weren’t garbled nonsensical . No God talk like their mother’s. Heather wanted proof , though. “They aren’t manic.”
    “ You can’t know that, Sadie. If they are, you won’t necessarily be able to tell.”
    “ Well, now, journaling can be very therapeutic, also. How would you characterize the entries, Sadie?”
    “ Like a diary. I write when I’m upset.”
    “ Exactly. You’re upset, you’re writing, you’re painting.”
    “ Not maniacally. No God talk. No prophecies. I swear it.”
    “ Then let me see them.”
    “ No way.”
    Heather jutted her hand at Sadie as though to say, “ S ee?”
    Shit. What if Dr. Meyers asked to see them? “I’ll let Jen read them,” Sadie said in a rush.
    “ Well, Sadie, considering the family history, I understand your sister’s concern. I also respect your privacy. If you are comfortable with your cousin viewing the entries, it would warrant putting this issue to rest,” Dr. Meyers said. “Heather?”
    Heather nodded, her smile curving down. Sadie didn’t wish to hurt her sister, no matter what Heather accused her of , but she also couldn’t help trusting Jen slightly more. Besides, she’d been cornered.
    “ We’re agreed then. Before we end today,” Dr. Meyers said, leaning forward in her swivel seat , “I’d like to ask you one last question, Sadie.”
    Heather perked up. Sadie swallowed a tremor. “A question?” her voice cracked.
    “ I’m merely curious,” Dr. Meyers said, then paused a moment. “What is it you paint?”
    “ What do I paint?” She’d gotten so close! “Oils on