Emma’s grateful they’re not talking about running anymore. Talking about running makes her want to run. ‘I’m doing okay. I’m keeping up with my classes.’
‘Well, I already know you’re a good student. Do you feel your career goals have changed?’
‘No. Maybe. I still want to help kids.’
‘Your goals are your own, Emma.’ Audrey sits back, her glass of tea held over the lap blanket on her crossed knees. ‘And your goals aren’t dependent on anyone else’s approval. What’s important is that, whatever direction you choose to go in, it’s one that makes you happy and brings you satisfaction.’
‘You believe that?’
‘Yes. Part of my job, as your therapist, is to help you make the choices thatyouwant to make, that feel right for you. To give you room to grow – and change. It’s about evolving, Emma.’
‘Okay.’ Emma’s hands are cold where she clasps her glass.
‘Are you still comfortable talking?’
‘Yes. I just never really questioned what I want to do before.’
‘But your experience at Quantico changed that?’
Emma has a sudden flash of memory: Agent Ed Cooper in his meticulous suit, dead teenagers in a warehouse, the horrifying grin of the man who killed them. A white-haired boy with blood on his teeth. The sounds and smells of the Jefferson building at the FBI base come back to her. It hasn’t really been that long.
‘Quantico was … I felt useful. But I also felt used.’
Audrey inclines her head. ‘Can you say more about that?’
‘I’ve just been wondering whether I made the right decision, to reject the FBI’s job offer. Stuff like that.’ Emma rubs at the condensation slipping down the side of her glass. ‘My first reaction wasNo way. But that was just after St Elizabeths, and I was raw. Now I feel like I’m healing.’
‘That’s good.’ Audrey takes another sip. ‘But there’s a balance in that, too. You have to examine if you’re knitting back together or if you’re simply growing defensive armor over the wound.’
‘The result is the same, though, right? You can get by.’
‘There are some differences. And one is healthier than the other, long term. What still attracts you to the FBI program, d’you think?’
‘The idea of saving other victims.’ Emma’s voice is firm.
‘Delivering justice?’
‘Maybe.’ Emma fidgets, hesitates, sips her tea. ‘Being the hunter instead of the hunted.’
‘I can see the appeal of that for you. It’s good to acknowledge that the offer is tempting. And it’s an intellectual challenge, which I know you like.’ Audrey cocks her head again. She’s pushing sixty years old, but her eyes are sharp. ‘You seem restless, honey.’
‘I feel a little like that,’ Emma admits.
‘Can you say a bit more about what you’re feeling?’
Emma tries not to frown. The feeling is there: amorphous, opaque. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Is it a physical feeling in your body? You mentioned your sister is dating – is the feeling related to dating?’
‘What? No. You know I don’t …’ Emma shifts in her chair. ‘I’m not ready for that.’
‘Aren’t you?’ Audrey smiles. ‘You’re nineteen years old. Healthy. It wouldn’t be unlikely if you were feeling that urge.’
‘It’s not that. I’ve just been wondering if maybe I should have accepted the offer from Quantico.’
‘Well, I know you still have some connections there. Have you heard from Travis?’
Emma startles. She only ever lets herself think of him as Bell. ‘No. I don’t think he would do that.’
