Then, "Yes."
"Okay."
"I have a late meeting tonight, so I'll have to meet you at Dr.
Petersen's.
Angus will drive you over.
I'll grab a cab."
"All right."
I sagged into my seat, feeling a spark of hope.
Continuing therapy and meeting my dad could only be seen as positive signs.
Gideon and I were struggling.
But he hadn't given up yet.
"I'll see you then."
* * *
Angus dropped me off at Dr.
Petersen's office at a quarter to six.
I went inside and Dr.
Petersen waved at me through his open office door, rising from his seat behind his desk to shake my hand.
"How are you, Eva?" "I've been better."
His gaze swept over my face.
"You look tired."
"So everyone keeps telling me," I said dryly.
He looked over my shoulder.
"Where's Gideon?" "He had a late meeting, so he's coming separately."
"All right."
He gestured at the sofa.
"This is a nice opportunity for us to talk alone.
Is there anything in particular you'd like to discuss before he arrives?" I settled on the seat and spilled my guts, telling Dr.
Petersen about the amazing trip to the Outer Banks and then the bizarre, inexplicable week we'd had since.
"I just don't get it.
I feel like he's in trouble, but I can't get him to open up at all.