Page 197 of Naughty Nelle

She lowers her eyes. “No, I don’t want them to see me here.” She polishes off the berries.

“Dr. Grimm thinks it’s a good idea for my husband to join us in group,” she says at last. “I’m not so sure.”

I’m actually looking forward to meeting him. If he’s not nice to her, I’m going to take him out.

I’ve been eager to meet with Shrink all morning. I couldn’t even focus during meditation.

Proudly, I tell her that Elz and I made up. We’re best friends again. Everything’s better than ever.

“Good,” she says flatly.

Is that all she can say? I thought for sure she’d do a single flip. And doesn’t she at least want to know what happened to my finger?

Clenching a rolled up sheet of parchment that’s twice her size, Shrink hovers over me and scowls. I don’t get it. Have I done something wrong?

“Jane, you lied to me yesterday,” she says angrily. “You told me that you never had a friend. But on this assessment, you wrote that you not only had a friend, but a best friend.”

What is she talking about? I can hardly remember anything I wrote on that stupid questionnaire. It seems like a hundred years ago.

“It says right here that your ‘magic mirror’ was your best friend.”

“Give me that!” I wrench the assessment away from her and read it. Damn it! She’s right. We even briefly talked about my mirror in one of our first sessions. How could I forget?

“Jane, why was this mirror your best friend?”

“It talked to me. It said nice things about me. What’s wrong with that?”

“Were you alone when you talked with it?”

“Yes.”

“So, you talked to it when you were lonely.”

“No! When I was alone.” I hate it when she puts words in my mouth.

“Fine. What happened to your mirror?”

‘That kiss-ass looking glass betrayed me.” Hatred courses through my veins. “The traitor!”

“Friends don’t betray each other. Especially best friends.”

She’s playing with my head. And I don’t like it. Not one bit.

She flutters closer. “Jane, the mirror wasn’t your friend. It was a thing. A thing that couldn’t really see, feel, hear…or talk.”

What is she saying? That my mirror wasn’t really magic? But I heard it talk. I swear I did.

“Jane, the voice you heard was your subconscious talking.”

I squirm. More Shrink-speak. What the hell is she talking about?

“This inner voice told you things you craved to hear.”

“Like how beautiful I was?”

“Yes, Jane. And things you feared to hear.”

“You mean…”

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