“No, thank you.” More tension.

I said, “Is something bothering you right now, Melissa?”

“No.”

“Would you like to talk about what scares you?”

Silence.

“Melissa?”

“Everything.”

“Everything scares you?”

Look of shame.

“How about we start with one thing.”

“Burglars and intruders.” Reciting, without hesitation.

I said, “Did someone tell you the kinds of questions I’d be asking you today?”

Silence.

“Was it Jacob?”

Nod.

“And your mother?”

“No. Just Jacob.”

“Did Jacob also tell you how to answer my questions?”

More hesitation.

I said, “If he did, that’s okay. He’s trying to help. I just want to make sure you tell me how you feel. You’re the star of this show, Melissa.”

She said, “He told me to sit up straight, speak clearly, and tell the truth.”

“The truth about what scared you?”

“Uh-huh. And then maybe you could help me.”

Accent on the maybe. I could almost hear Dutchy’s voice.

I said, “That’s fine. Jacob’s obviously a very smart person and he takes good care of you. But when you come here, you’re the boss. You can talk about anything you want.”

“I want to talk about burglars and intruders.”

“Okay. Then that’s what we’ll do.”

I waited. She said nothing.

I said, “What do these burglars and intruders look like?”

“They’re not real burglars,” she said, scornful again. “They’re in my imagination. Pretend.”

“What do they look like in your imagination?”

More silence. She closed her eyes. The hands kneaded furiously, her body took on a faint rocking motion, and her face screwed up. She appeared to be on the brink of tears.

I leaned in closer and said, “Melissa, we don’t have to talk about this right now.”