I am heading to the cabin.
My family’s cabin is in the northern forest, where it snows for two-thirds of the year and rains the other third. It’s been years since we’ve been back, not since my brother died.
I pull over at the side of the road for lunch. It offers an impressive view of the forest sloping down the mountainside. I pick up my phone to check the missed call I’d had while driving, recognising the number I hit call.
“Joanne,” Susanne, my therapist, answers. “I hope you missed my call because you’re on the road?”
“Just pulled over for lunch.”
“I’m glad you finally agreed to try this, getting to the root of your problems will help.” I make a non-committal sound in response.
“We already know this place messed me up, I don’t see what my coming here again will achieve.”
KATIE MARIE 
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