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“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
Her cheeks lose some of their color. “Okay. Wow. Which one is your favorite?”
I take a bite of my pizza to give me enough time to consider her question. “Honestly, I don’t have one.”
Her mouth gapes apart. “None of them feel like home?”
“Home is wherever I’m needed for work.”
She gapes at me.
“There’s some climates I prefer more than others. Like Chicago is great in the summer but my dick is subject to frostbite during the winter.”
“And Dreamland?”
I toe around her question carefully. “Dreamland is different.”
“How so?”
“There were a lot of bad memories there for me.”
Her brows pull together. “Oh. It’s surprising you wanted to become the Director then.”
“I was interested in taking the park to the next level. It was in my best interest to move past the issues holding me back.”
It’s not technically a lie.Yet her smile still feels like a punch to the gut.
You have no choice but to keep the whole truth from her. You’re too close to finishing to jeopardize everything now.
She smiles. “Do you feel better about being there now?”
“I met someone who makes my time there tolerable.”
The flush spreading across her cheeks makes my stomach roll. It’s hard to eat anything. “Tolerable? I’ve got to step it up.”
She’s done more than enough. I clear my throat. “Enough questions about me. I’m curious about something.”
“What?”
“Tell me about your pins.”
Her entire body language changes from the one question. “It’s not a cute story.” She looks out at the view behind me.
“I didn’t ask for one.” I grab her hand like she’s done for me every time I need to talk about something difficult.
Her body loosens, and she releases a deep breath. “The first day I attended therapy was the same day I got my very first pin.”
I could never imagine someone like Zahra going to therapy. My father told me it was for weak people who were so pathetic, they needed someone else to solve their problems.
“You went to therapy? Why?”
“Because I realized that I couldn’t fix myself without putting in the hard work.”
“But you’re—” I get stuck on finding the right words.
Her laugh sounds sad. “What? I’m nice? Happy? Smiling?”
