Kendra was afraid of the silence she felt, hating that I was refusing to talk about it. Lucian was giving me time to process, as if he thought I actually would. Kendra was relentless, so I had been sending her on meaningless tasks, and each time she’d finished, she would end up right back in the room with me. “You need to talk to me,” she demanded quietly once she’d figured out that I was purposely sending her out on unnecessary errands. “No.” “So, what, Lena? What’s the fucking plan, shut it off and just not feel anything, just like you did when Joshua died, because that ended so fucking well. You need to open up and talk about it; I already know everything, so just talk to me!” Kendra said as she paced the length of the room. “I don’t need a therapist right now, Kendra,” I mumbled as I grabbed the pillow and lay on my side, watching her endless pacing. “You took a life; you need to cry or shout, or, shit, Lena…Do something besides sit there and pretend it didn’t happen to you, because it did!”
