“I don’t think I can ever forgive her,” she honestly said to the man sitting before her.

Dr. Kellerman’s wrinkled eyes peered at her through the upper rims of his eyeglasses. “No one asked you to forgive, Hope.”

She nodded. She knew that. But in some ways, society had bored into the minds of the people that forgiveness comes after a bad deed. People would always have the thoughts of forgiveness at the back of their minds despite the hate, whether or not they intend to give it. It was as if forgiveness is a must. Forgive and you shall live a peaceful life.

“Forgiveness is not something you force yourself to give. Like love, it comes suddenly and when that comes—if it will—you’ll know. But know that it is not a requirement,” Dr. Kellerman added.

She kept silent. She had never seen her mother after Gina Madden was sent to prison for one count of murder, kidnapping and attempted murder. She could no longer feel the overwhelming anger toward the woman. There was just emptiness. And for most people, it was the worst.

“How’s school?” Dr. Kellerman asked.

She smiled at the change of subject. “Better than last year. I am getting the hang of it.”

“This is a small town. People know each other and you were a new face.”

“Come on, they know who I am,” she said. “My past makes people uneasy around me, plus the fact that I am the oldest student. It’s not every day you get to see a thirty-year-old high school student, you know,” she added with a tinge of amusement.

“But you like it here.” It was not a question but an observation.

She thought about it, shrugged, and nodded. “Better than the big city. I like the atmosphere. Not a lot of stress.” A silence fell between them, the kind that was serene and calm. “I made some friends,” she spoke with a smile.

Dr. Kellerman was obviously pleased because he raised both eyebrows at her with a smile. He had been trying to encourage her to make friends for more than a year now. “So you did. At last. How are they?”

“Good. One of them is an old man who works at a shelter I volunteer in. The other is a homeless man who frequents the shelter.”

“I am guessing he is old too.”

“Of course. He could barely eat on his own.”

“Too old to hurt you?”

She shrugged. “Sure. And I have another friend. His name is Tommy.”

“Is he frail too?”

“At first, yes. He’s living with me.” Dr. Kellerman waited patiently for her explanation. “I found him wandering around outside my bungalow last week. He has black fur and a white patch around the left eye.”

The doctor smiled. “A puppy?”

“Kitten. Never liked dogs.”

“When do you think you can learn to deal with people who are not fifty years older than you and don’t have any furs?”

“I don’t know. Another five years? I deal with a bunch of school kids at school. And teachers as well—you know I am even older than some of them.”

“But not to the point that you can trust them to hang out with them knowing they are capable of hurting you one way or the other but you still do because you know they will not do the same things Carl and your mother did to you.”

“It takes some time,” she answered with full honesty.

Dr. Kellerman just nodded. “At least I know the reason why you forced a retired psychiatrist to take your case.”

“I did not force you. And admit it—you missed working.”

He just sighed and uncrossed his legs, an indication that their session was almost over. "How are Patty's parents?"

She smiled but she felt a lump in her throat like she always did whenever she remembered Patty. "They called me yesterday. They are planning to visit."

"Let me know how that goes."

"Sure."

The doctor slapped his knees and sighed. The session was over. “My dear wife baked an awesome apple pie. Wanna try a piece?”

“I would love to,” she answered, standing up. “But I need to run some errands. Unlike you, I live alone and have to do everything on my own.”

She had never accepted any offers to seat with the doctor and his wife. Maybe soon, she thought as she gathered her things. One step at a time as what Dr. Kellerman had said before.

One step at a time.

*****

She went to the only supermarket around town and bought what she needed. She then rode her bicycle to the nearest coffee shop, one of the three around the same town, to have her own piece of homemade pie and brewed coffee since that seemed to be the only things the place served, and sat outside to enjoy the cool Saturday afternoon. It was the highlight of her week, she thought as she opened her book and immersed herself with Kafka.

Her inner alarm system surged to full alert even before the person took the seat right across from her. She knew she was protected by the number of people around them and the daylight, but she couldn’t control her body’s reaction. Her heart started to hammer and her hand reached for her bag where her Taser was safely hidden.

“I am here to collect a debt long overdue,” the voice said and Hope’s hand paused inside her bag. She looked up to the man facing her across the table. He looked familiar but not at the same time. But she definitely recognized his voice. “You promised to buy me coffee, remember?” he asked with a smile, his eyes very much familiar.

It took her a while to find her voice and when she did, she said, “Your nose changed.”

“Had to be done. My former face was almost the same level as the man on NSA’s most wanted list. Don’t you like it?”

“It doesn’t become you.”

He just smiled and continued looking at her. “So,” he said, leaning against the chair. “Coffee?”

“I don’t have that much money as you might have thought before.”

“Come on. I know you have enough to spend a few cents for a struggling lawyer.”

Hope raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Lawyer?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“A struggling one?”

“Yeah,” he answered again. “I just moved into town, you know. I don’t have a single client yet.”

“Moved into town? I thought you were just passing by.”

“I like this town. Quiet and…just quiet.”

“I thought you must be in some unknown country by now.”

“I have been for some time, actually. Didn’t like the weather. So, coffee?”

She couldn’t take her eyes away from his clean-shaven face and laughing eyes. He had gained some weight too. His nose was a bit distracting but she could get used to it. She finally nodded toward her cup and said, “Just take mine. I told you I am not as rich as you might have thought. And I am still in high school.”

He reached over and slid her cup toward him and she couldn’t help but snort. “I heard you are about to skip to college though. You’ve got recommendations from your teachers.”

She frowned at him. “I don’t think I like the thought of someone looking into my life.”

“I didn’t. Burton did. I just happened to be there when he reported about your safe life.”

She shook her head as she watched him sip from her cup. “You really moved into town?”

“Of course. I thought I should find someone I am familiar with after my fantastic adventures five years ago.”

She had thought before that if the time came that she would meet him again that they would have to talk about the past, answer each other’s questions—the works. But then she realized both of them were okay not talking about it for now. “Glad to know you managed to survive the adventures,” she uttered.

“I did. And I have put a lot of bad ogres behind bars along the way.”

“So I heard. Congratulations.”

He placed the cup on the table and pointed at his nose. “Thus the nose. The ogres hate me even more and now I have to turn into a handsome prince while they keep looking for the frog who threw them in the dungeon. I don’t have that as much leverage over them now as I did five years ago.”

Hope chuckled. “Don’t worry. I guess you’ll live another five years.”

He smiled as he studied her from across the table. “You changed your hair. Red suits you well. The black made you look very pale. The blond one was just a mess.”

“I like it too,” she said, fingering her long, colored tresses. She did not fight when he reached over for her pie as well and took a bite without a word. “You know, my psychiatrist will be very glad to know about you.”

He frowned as he chewed. “Why?”

“You’re not fifty years older than me and you don’t have furs,” she said mysteriously. “He would love to know about the new lawyer in town. What should I tell him your name is?”

He hastily swallowed the pie and brushed the crumbs off his hands before held out his hand before him over the table. “Sorry for being rude. Lawrence Samuels is the name. And you tell him the first meeting is free of charge. I can do her divorce papers.”

Hope laughingly took his hand, the handshake lingering a bit longer. “He’s a he. And no divorce for him, I guess. His wife’s pie is way better than the one you’re having as I have heard and he loves them to death so he might want to make a will.”

His face crunched up. “Will? It means old clients.”

“You’re a struggling lawyer. You can’t choose your clients.”

He gave a dramatic sigh as he took another bite from his stolen pie.

“Lawrence doesn’t suit you either, the same as your nose.”

“Then what does?”

Hope smiled. “Devin, of course.”

He frowned. “Burton chose that name.”

“How about Lawrence?”

“He picked that one too. After watching a stupid game show.”

“Then Devin it is,” she said.

He shrugged and leaned closer to the table. “Devin for you. Lawrence for others. Deal?”

“Deal.”

"And we still have to go on a barbecue."

"Deal. I already visited Patty's parents since you went off the grid and I couldn't wait."

"I'll make it up to you next time. But my shack is still looking really bad where it is."

She smiled. "We'll see what we can do about that some time," she said as she reached over to grabe her cup back and took a sip.

One step at a time, she thought.