Rhea Thurman has always been goal-driven despite the tragedies of her past. Her obsession with criminal law leads her to the most prestigious internship in the city, working under up-and-coming lawyer, Davina Jenkins.
But Rhea never prepared to meet...
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"I'm surprised to see you. It's been so long."
It's raining, ironically. My fingers tap against the soft leather chair as I sit in Doctor Heather Blackwood's office.
If I close my eyes, I'll be able to picture the layout of the room perfectly. How one book displayed on her shelf never stays upright or how her masters of psychology certificate sits hanging on her wall, slighting crooked.
"Honestly," I begin, turning my head from the window to face her, "Maia wanted me to come. She would have been on my back about it all week if I didn't."
I watch Heather's heart-shaped face assessing me; her dark eyes and matching curly hair pinned back in a perfect bun. She's not much older than my mother, and when I met her for the first time five years ago, I'd been startled for the entire session about how similar they were.
"Did something happen to make Maia feel this way?" she questions, opening her notebook as she clicks her pen.
I focus on the blank page, knowing all too well that by the end of this hour, it'll be full of her short-hand writing. Notes that I can never interpret.
"I got the internship. You know the one I spoke about a few years ago? With Davina Jenkins?"
"That's fantastic, Rhea," Heather beams, the crows feet around her eyes crinkling.
"Maia thinks I'm becoming obsessed with one of the cases," I pick at the lint on my grey sweater.
"How do you feel about that?"
"About her thinking I'm obsessed?"
"Do you think it has become an obsession?" she asks.
"No," I disagree. "She's just worried because— because the crime was murder."
Heather begins to take notes, her hand moving rapidly but her eyes still focused on me. "It's barely been a month," I ball my hand into a fist, flexing my fingers. "I'm just doing my part. As much as I can, anyway."
"You feel strongly about this," she notes.
"I just don't want her to worry about me," I sigh. "It's all she ever seems to do."
"She cares, Rhea."
"I know," I nod, entwining my fingers in my lap. "I wish she'd take care of herself more than others, though. She worries too much."
"Does she have reason to worry?" Heather prompts, quietly.
I know in an instant what she's referring too. I feel the emotions lingering in my stomach; the dread of being a bad friend to Maia. The pain I made her endure a few years ago. My pain.
"No," I say, sternly. "It isn't like that. This internship has just been my dream for so long. I'm ready to put in the work for it. She just sees it differently. Always has."
