Page 2 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

“I have expensive taste.”

“Oh?”

“My husband likes to indulge me,” Cara added with a smirk. “Now, answer some of my questions, Catherine.”

“No, but thanks.” Catherine sighed. “You don’t sound like any New Yorker I’ve met.”

“I grew up in Chicago, actually. I moved to Ontario, Canada when I was fresh out of high school, and that’s where I have lived ever since.”

Catherine’s brow furrowed. “So wait—you still live there?”

“With my husband and sons, yes.” Cara peered down at Catherine when she stayed silent. “What is it, Catherine?”

“You flew here from Canada to speak to me?”

“I flew this time, yes. I may drive through the Niagara Falls border next time, depending on how I feel.”

“And you’re a therapist?”

Cara leaned forward, and rested her arms over her knees to fold her hands together. “For the last decade, yes. I went back to school a few years after graduating to further what I had already taken. Then went on to finish a three-year residency, and my focus is now on young women, children, and those struggling with addiction. Again, though, mostly women.”

“Huh.”

“Do you feel like getting up to talk to me?”

“Not really.”

“Shame,” Cara murmured.

“Sorry my father wasted your time.”

“Dante wasted nothing, Catherine. It’s you who is wasting my time. Never blame others for problems you cause or your own shortcomings; that isn’t any way to fix something that is wrong.”

Ouch.

“Why would my father call you to come here and talk to me? Why not someone from the city?”

Cara smiled. “Would an answer entice you to get up off the floor?”

“Not really.”

“How long have you been down there?”

Catherine had to think about that one. “Last night around ten. My room was too quiet.”

“Have you slept at all?”

“I don’t like the things I dream.”

Wordlessly, Cara moved from the couch, kicked off her heels, and rested down on the rug alongside Catherine. The woman didn’t turn to look at her, but rather, stared at the ceiling, too.

“Your father called me,” Cara said, “because you are a special case, and I am a special woman.”

“How so?”

“I may understand whatever your situation is better than someone else might. I also may have an inside look at what your life has been like up until this moment, given where you come from, and where I came from. You may not feel as though you can talk openly with someone else about your family and the things in your life as you can with me.”

Catherine frowned.