“One.”
“Right, the story about the ogre in the cave.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you think that connection between your father and storytelling, those happy memories of listening to him, are part of why you connect so strongly to your aunt’s stories?”
“Maybe.”
“Was your aunt Vivian ever there when your father told you the ogre story?”
“Sometimes.”
“So, she heard the story.”
“I suppose.”
“Did she ever tell you that story?”
“Of course not. It wasn’t her story. It was Harry’s.”
“No one else could tell it?”
“No.”
“So that story was like a part of Harry’s identity to you.”
“I suppose.”
“And are Aunt Vivian’s stories a part of her identity?”
“She thinks so.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“She thinks they’re real. She thinks they really happened.”
“And does that bother you?”
“Of course it bothers me. You of all people should know what it’s like to be around people who are insane.”
“Do you think your aunt is insane?”
“Okay, maybe not insane.”
“Then why does it bother you that she believes the stories?”
“Because they’re not true.”
“But they make you feel better.”
“Which makes me feel guilty.”
“You feel guilty because the stories help you, but you think they hurt her?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe they don’t hurt her. Has she ever complained about telling them?”