In the After

go the comb-over route. The thought made me smirk.
    “What’s so funny?” he asked, the hint of a smile on his lips, as if he already understood the joke.
    “Nothing, really . . . I’m just . . .” I struggled. “I’m just happy to be here in New Hope. I’m feeling really optimistic.”
    He studied me and scribbled in his notebook, a fake smile still plastered on his doughy face. “It’s good to be positive, especially after everything you’ve been through. New Hope must seem like it’s too good to be true.”
    I nodded, but offered no response. I’d decided that the less I say the better.
    “And what do you find the hardest about being in New Hope?” he prompted.
    “Excuse me?”
    “I hear you had an incident yesterday; Baby cut herself. . . .”
    “She didn’t cut herself,” I clarified, sounding sharper than I’d intended. I cleared my throat nervously. “I just . . . it’s very loud here. It takes some time to get used to.”
    He tapped his pen against the notebook paper absently, the odd smile never leaving his face. “So you would say the noise disturbs you the most?” He fixed me in his intense gaze. His dark eyes seemed to bore into my thoughts. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, unable to find a comfortable position.
    “I didn’t say I was disturbed by the noise,” I answered carefully. “It’s just different here. There are a lot of sounds that we aren’t used to anymore.” I tried to sit still but I kept rubbing my hands together. Dr. Reynolds seemed to be observing this, so I moved my hands to the arms of the chair, trying not to hold on too tightly.
    “You said we .”
    “Sorry?”
    “Just now, you said ‘sounds that we aren’t used to.’ Why did you say we instead of I ?”
    “Oh. I mean Baby. I’m used to thinking of us together. We’re hardly ever apart.”
    “I see.” The loose flesh around his chin jiggled when he spoke and I had the urge to laugh again, which I hid by coughing loudly. He glanced down at his notebook, making a few notes. “Let’s talk more about Baby. You see yourself as her . . . friend? Parental figure? Protector?”
    I did see myself as those things to Baby, and so much more, but I didn’t want to seem like I was overbearing. “I guess . . . I see myself as more of a sister to her.”
    “And what does Baby mean to you in terms of sisterhood?”
    I looked down at my hands. I was starting to wonder why he wanted to talk about Baby so much. I swallowed, trying to appear composed.
    “I think about her before I think about myself . . . like whenever the creatures were close by. I want her to be safe.” I was rubbing my hands together again and had to clench my fists in order to stop.
    “Can she not protect herself?” His tone was steady, like every word carried a double meaning.
    I hated how frail my voice sounded in comparison. “Oh no, she can. Baby is amazing. She knows how to be quiet and when to hide. She’s been my rock, really. I think she kept me sane out there. Not that I was insane, I mean who wouldn’t be a little crazy, stuck with only Floraes for company.” I was rambling and my forehead was sweaty. I wiped my face on my sleeve, which I regretted when Dr. Reynolds immediately made a note on his paper.
    “Was it distressing, to learn your mother was alive all these years?” He looked at me thoughtfully. “While you were ‘stuck,’ I believe is how you put it.”
    “It’s . . . surprising. I wish I’d known sooner.” I bit my lip, uncertain if I should have said more. After a moment, I added, “Even if I wasn’t with her, wasn’t in New Hope, it would have been a relief to know she was alive.”
    He waited for me to continue and when I didn’t, he asked, “What word, if you could choose only one, would you use to describe your reunion with your mother?” His pen poised at the ready, eager to judge my response.
    “Only one? But there are so many.” Confusing. Frightening. Surreal . I stare at the ground, trying to think. “I guess, I would choose . . . fortunate.” I cringed inwardly. I should have chosen grateful or overjoyed . “We’re just so lucky to be here,” I kept on. “I mean I am. I’m lucky to be in New Hope.”
    Dr. Reynolds studied me. His unwavering smile would be reassuring on some people. On him it just gave me the creeps. “I think we’ve chatted long enough, Amy.”
    “Did I pass?”
    He froze, and for the first time since we began talking, his phony smile