“I don’t believe in angels,” I tell her flatly. “That’s all just stupid. Come one, I mean, if someone was gonna protect me…why did Daddy do that stuff to me? Why?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t have all the answers. But—“

“No! You’re wrong! Gracie is real! She’s just as real as you! You’re just…trying to make me feel crazy! Stop! Stop it!” I lost my cool, now I’m screaming, but I can’t help it.

“I’ve read a lot about angels. But if you don’t want to believe that, then you tell me. Who do you think Gracie is?”

“My sister! My twin sister! She’s like part of me, that’s how close we are! She understands everything! She…you mean…are you saying I’m crazy, like Mommy was? Are you saying I see things that aren’t there?”

She doesn’t like this question, I can tell. She quickly flips through her notes, looks back up at me.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I really don’t. But I don’t think you’re crazy…just a bit confused.”

“No! You’re the crazy one!” I need to scream. “Gracie, help me,” I whimper.