Three 8.5×11″ sheets perfectly aligned on the desk; precise margins between. Adam has no doubt that it’s 1.24", as she claimed when he asked her a few days ago. Something about a 3rd power golden ratio… no idea what she was talking about.

He likes those rare moments when she says something that isn’t a question… isn’t about Cassie. They never last long.

“Adam,” she says, looking up from the papers before her, “Your subconscious has created Cassie for a reason. What does she represent to you, do you think?”

Blue eyes pierce like shards of cold glass.

He lets out a long breath, stifling an amused smile as her papers scatter. Her hands flash out and she begins the tedious process of straightening them.

Adam stares at the long mirror behind her. He wonders again what’s on the other side. A camera? A person? Does that person call the shots? What does he have to say to get the hell out of here?

She’s looking at him again, her task done.

“Innocence,” he says.

“You like innocence?”

“I like when I was.”