John leaned forward. "Do you think you put your love and trust in women who aren't Kaia because you can't trust her anymore, but you need people to share all that with? Maybe Marianna and Greta are just better at talking to you and listening, and that's all you're looking for."

I blinked. "That's a nice way to look at it."

Spreading out his hands, John said, "You tell this story like you're a con man, but what I see is a lot more complex. You've constructed impossibly delicate tower of crystal that refracts an infinite amount of light. You're struggling to get what you want without hurting anyone."

Shrugging, I said, "I'm so tired, John. I haven't slept and I'm on edge all the time. I was walking past a dock yesterday, where there were yachts tethered. It was terrifying, but I couldn't decide what I was scared of: megalaphobia of the scale of the ships, agoraphobia of being on the open water, claustrophobia of being trapped on a boat, or panic from the speed of the craft. It was the kaleidoscopic panic attack."

Softly, John said, "We get to a point in our lives where we have to treat our emotional needs as very good friends and be kind to them."

"Honestly, I feel like my endless self criticism is my Dad installed in my head," I explained. "The instinct for obedience was ingrained in me. Because when someone defies me, it makes me furious in a way that I can't understand. And when my father is unhappy, I am deeply unwell. He and I are linked, handler and handled, if you look at it from a mind control standpoint. Then Quinn handles him. Like an infernal Russian stacking doll.”

Sighing, John said, "Come on, Deacon. You need to get away from all this. Let's go on a caper together, an escapade. We can act like we don't have a zillion responsibilities and don't know as much about the world as we really do. Let's get your camera, go out, interview people, and find the truth about Freddy and what really happened."