The Never List

the uneven surface. I closed my eyes and took deep, measured breaths, counting quietly to myself.
    Tracy didn’t slow down until we were within the city limits. We stopped under the glaring lights of a Chevron station to refuel, and then she drove on until she spotted a Waffle House. We took a booth in the corner and ordered coffee, sitting in silence, as we waited for our hearts to stop pounding and our heads to clear.

CHAPTER 24
    Two days later Tracy and I got off the plane together in Portland. I was beginning to feel like a seasoned traveler. No panic attacks. I’d learned to cope. I bought a little rolling suitcase I only allowed to be gate-checked. I wore a smaller bag crosswise over my chest. I kept my valuables in its zippered interior pocket that I checked every half hour on the dot. My physical belongings, at least, were safe with me.
    Tracy and I had hardly spoken since New Orleans, though I didn’t understand why. I wondered if she was embarrassed by what she had told me, regretting it now that we were away from the site of her painful past. Or maybe she had been looking for more of a response from me—understanding or commiseration, something I didn’t know how to show. And maybe, no matter what she said, she still couldn’t disentangle the past from the present any more than I could.
    At any rate I was not, I told myself, eager to rekindle some relationship with Tracy. Yet even as I thought this, I knew I really didn’t believe it. I couldn’t stay in my bubble anymore, and oddly, I didn’t want to.
    Still, it was surreal being with her, out in the world like this, without any walls to contain us. Yet here she was, here I was, and we were in Oregon. We never would have believed that anything could make us come back to this part of the world.
    I pulled out my phone to do my check, to distract myself. I saw I had another message from Dr. Simmons and thought a busy public area would be as good as any place to call her back.
    She answered right away. “Sarah. Where are you?”
    “I’m taking a vacation, Dr. Simmons.”
    “Sarah, Jim and I have spoken. Where are you? Is everything okay?”
    “I’m fine. Listen, you’ve been enormously helpful. Really. But I have to figure out a few things on my own. And then we can discuss them. At length. In elaborate detail.”
    “I understand. I just want to tell you that it’s not all on you. It’s not all your responsibility. Remember that.”
    I stopped. The wheels of my suitcase glided to a slow halt on the smooth floor of the airport. Dr. Simmons always did manage to touch a nerve.
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “Just that. Just that I know you put a lot of pressure on yourself. And in this case, there are a lot of other people bearing the burden of keeping Jack Derber in jail. It’s not all on you.”
    “Well, of course I know that,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly.
    “Okay, then. That’s all I wanted to tell you. Have a great trip. Call me when you get back. Or sooner if you need me.”
    I hung up, staring off at the illuminated sign of a barbecue place. Dr. Simmons was right. I didn’t have to bear the whole burden, butthat wasn’t the whole story. Even if I hadn’t been responsible for everyone else’s pain, I did have a duty to Jennifer. I owed her something more.
    My thoughts drifted back over the familiar territory of our abduction. If only I hadn’t persuaded her to go with me to the party that night. She’d had an exam to study for, but I had pushed her to go out. I can still picture her face as she hesitated, then relented for my sake. If only I hadn’t pushed. Where would we both be now?
    I was doing it again, I told myself, as I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
    Tracy glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, as she headed straight for the exit. “Dr. Simmons?”
    “Yes.”
    “I don’t know why you still see her. She’s basically an instrument of the state.”
    “You mean, because she works with Jim so much?”
    “I mean, because doesn’t the State of Oregon still pay her? And because she saw all three of us at the beginning. Come on, Sarah. They are keeping tabs on us. To make sure we don’t go before the legislature again to demand compensation. I started seeing a private shrink immediately. I only see Dr. Simmons once a year to keep Jim off my back. A check-in, he likes to say. Which is, I’m sure, exactly right. I’m sure he checks in. I’m sure it is a total pass-through situation.”
    “What