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Sawyer shook her head. “Cali, it’s not your fault.”

“I contributed,” I said. “Even if I didn’t mean to.”

She studied me for a second, sighed softly and leaned back against her chair.

“It wasn’t just you,” she said. “The gym’s . . . a lot sometimes. Noise, people, movement. I thought I could handle it that day. I was wrong.”

I nodded slowly. “CPTSD?”

Her eyes flicked up to mine, surprised.

“Yeah.”

Complex PTSD wasn’t just about one traumatic event. It reshaped the nervous system until danger could exist long after the threat was gone. I’d treated patients through panic attacks before, but this had been different. Because this time, I’d been the trigger.

“I should have recognized it faster,” I added.

She shrugged one shoulder. “There was no way for either of us to know we’d run into someone from so long ago.”

“True,” I said.

Her lips twitched faintly. “It has been a little while.”

I let out a small breath, some of the tension in my chest easing.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, quieter this time. “For the gym. And for the other day. Believe it or not, it was the moment that reinforced my choice to become a nurse practitioner.”

Her posture relaxed, just slightly. “You’re a nurse practitioner?”

“Yeah. At the hospital,” I said. “Mostly ER coverage and some outpatient follow-ups.”

“That explains a lot,” she murmured.

“Like what?”

“You didn’t panic,” she said. “Even when I did.”

I gave a small humorless smile. “Doesn’t mean I did everything right.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she agreed. “But you stayed.”

The words caught somewhere inside me. I glanced down at the workbook on the table, pages filled with lists.

“You work here every day?” I asked.

Sawyer followed my gaze, nodded. “Yeah.”

“Volunteering?”

“No, I’m the director. Making sure things run smoothly and people get the assistance they need.” She tapped the edge of a stack of papers on the table. “Lists help.”

“I can see that.”

She smiled a little at that, then looked back up at me. “This place helps more than just the kids,” she said.

“How so?” I asked. Sawyer tucked one hand in her pocket.

“It gives structure,” she said. “Predictability. We offer family therapy, parenting classes, and job coaching. You know what to expect when you walk in. There’s always something that needs to be done, but it’s . . . manageable.”