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I shake my head. "Not exactly. My life felt…better. Like there was this weight taken off my shoulders, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain."
"So it worked."
"What?"
"The exorcism," he says, his hands on his knees, his body inching closer to me. "That means that it worked, yes?"
"I…I mean, I don’t know, I guess?" I ask, licking my lips. "It’s hard to know because I don’t know what it was like when I was possessed."
"Right. You said this happened years ago. Have you been stewing on it all this time and it came to a head suddenly, or did something trigger this?"
"They came back," I say. "They asked me for my help. And then the kid they were trying to help wrapped his hand around my throat and tried to kill me."
"Oh. Well, that’ll do it."
"And now I’m trying to figure out—fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to figure out. Are they using me? Is this bad? Do I need to remember all of it? I just…my head feels like it’s about to explode."
"I can help you," he says, grabbing his clipboard. "But I can’t help with all of that in one session. So, let’s make this a weekly thing?"
I pick up my head to look into his dark green eyes. "Yeah," I say. "Okay. That sounds good."
When I meet his gaze, his eyes are glimmering. And maybe it’s my imagination, but he looks hungry as fuck.
