died when Callie was three. She didn’t even remember her face, forced to consult one of the few faded pictures she’d held on to.
“Were you upset when she died?”
“Of course I was upset,” she said evenly. “Who wouldn’t be? I was young and had no mother.” Callie’s pulse sped up, so she took control of her breathing. In and out. In and out. “But I couldn’t do anything about it and it wasn’t her fault that she was killed.”
“Are you still angry?”
Callie’s brow furrowed. Her mother had been gone twenty-six years. She missed her or, more specifically, she missed having a mother figure. She didn’t know what it was like to have a mother to turn to in tough times. Like when she’d caught Andrew cheating.
She spoke calmly. “Car jacking is a horrific act of violence, but I don’t dwell on it.”
“Are you close to your father?” Dr. Hammond shifted in his seat and crossed one leg over the other.
“No.”
“When was the last time you two spoke?”
Callie did the math in her head. “About eleven years ago.”
Dr. Hammond’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a long time.” When Callie didn’t comment further, he asked, “What was the circumstance that led to your loss of communication?”
Callie nearly smiled at Dr. Hammond’s formal turn of phrase rather than simply asking why she’d shut her father out of her life. “I left for college.”
“I see.”
No, he probably didn’t, but Callie couldn’t disclose her personal demons to this stranger, no matter how soothingly he spoke.
“Did you and your father have an altercation?”
“No.”
“Would you like to rekindle a relationship with him?”
She hadn’t even considered it. “That’s not an option.”
Dr. Hammond cocked his head and asked, “Did he molest you?”
Callie’s eyes widened and she straightened in her chair. “No, of course not. He’d never do that.” Her father was the sweetest man she’d ever known. Maybe too sweet, blinding him to the deceit surrounding him.
Dr. Hammond watched Callie through narrowed eyes and finally nodded as he made notes in his file. “Let’s move on to your stepmother,” Dr. Hammond suggested.
Let’s not. “What about her?” Breathe deeply. In and out.
“How old were you when she came into your life?”
Callie’s stomach churned. “She was my mother’s friend, her maid of honor when my parents married.”
Dr. Hammond made another note. “How would you characterize your relationship?”
Callie couldn’t do this. She couldn’t discuss her stepmother. “She’s my father’s wife.” She took a halting breath. “Can’t we talk about something else?”
Dr. Hammond was silent for several minutes. “Callie, I’m at a loss here. The court sent you to me, but I can’t help you if you insist on burying your emotions. You need to open up.”
Callie didn’t know what to say. She’d spent most of her life keeping her thoughts and emotions to herself. Any anger burning her insides remained unspoken. That’s what kept her out of trouble.
Until recently.
Most people would have screamed and yelled at Andrew and the woman on top of him, but Callie didn’t operate like that. She’d learned early on to curb her temper, no matter how unfair the circumstances. After that, only once had she ever lost complete control of her temper. It was a slipup as a teenager and she was lucky it hadn’t ruined the rest of her life.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. Nothing in my past has anything to do with me finding my boyfriend in bed with another woman.” She fisted and relaxed her hands several times. “It didn’t make me lose my temper and break an expensive vase. Though I almost wish I had so at least I’d be paying for something I actually did.”
The more she’d thought about it since court, the more she was positive she couldn’t have broken Andrew’s vase. The ugly thing always sat on a shelf right outside his kitchen, so she never even would have come near it as she ran out of his apartment. The only way she might have been responsible is if it had fallen when she’d slammed his apartment door as she’d left—but she wouldn’t have slammed the door. That would have been a loss of control that was completely out of character for Callie.
“Our time is almost up for today.” Dr. Hammond leaned forward. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, but I want you to go spend time with your father and stepmother.” When Callie opened her mouth to speak, he raised a hand to stop her. “I want you to voice, face-to-face, whatever your feelings have been about them. Even if in the end you haven’t settled things, at least you won’t be carrying your hurt inside where it’s obviously tearing you apart.”
This couldn’t be happening. “Can’t I just write letters to them, pour out my feelings, and then burn the letters or something?” She’d seen that on shows countless times and it always seemed to make the person feel better.
Not that she needed to feel better. She was just fine. Especially now that she was free of cheating Andrew and single again.
“I’m afraid not,” he said. “I’ve already made arrangements for you to continue your community service in Whittler’s Creek.”
“But—”
“Our time is up.” Dr. Hammond repeated as he stood. “We’ll continue therapy by phone while you’re away. You can email my receptionist with the best time for you once you know your community service hours.”
Callie stood up, her mind a foggy mess. “What about my job?” How would she explain needing time off? How long would it take? A few days? A week? Longer?
Breathe. In and out. Slower. In...out.
Dr. Hammond put a hand on her elbow to show her out. “I’m sure they’ll allow you to take a sabbatical once you explain.” He handed her another piece of paper. A formal letter on his personal stationery. “Use this if necessary.” He handed her another sheet of paper. “And here’s where you report for community service at 8:00 a.m. Monday.”
She glanced at the information. Office of the Chief of Police, Whittler’s Creek, Maryland. Great. What were the chances this small-town law enforcer was someone who didn’t know her or about her past?
LATE SUNDAY AFTERNOON Callie reluctantly drove the hour and a half from her home just inside the Washington, DC, beltway to the town where she’d grown up in western Maryland. She’d spoken to her boss Friday afternoon and arranged
