Free Therapy Ever After (Therapy #1.5) by Kathryn Perez Page A

is this place?” I whisper.
    There’s no reply.
    I drop my head into my hands and close my eyes. All of this is insane. I’m dead! Why does any of this even matter? A million questions pillage my thoughts. There’s not a reasonable answer for any of them. Lifting my head, I focus on the paper. When I pick up the pen, I run my fingers across the soft plume. A drop of ink falls from the tip into the ink well. White ink? I’ve never seen white ink before. How am I supposed to write with white on white? You won’t be able to read a single word. I let out an exasperated sigh and decide to do it anyway. When I get back to the knob-less door with paper and pen in hand, I dread enduring the fall once again. Taking a deep breath, I reach out with one hand and press it against the cold door.
    Back in the glass room, I go straight to the next mirror. I try to prepare myself for what I’ll see on the other side. It becomes liquid just as the last one did. When I touch it, I see all of them in our kitchen. My eyes grow wide and sadness stirs deep within me. I see them . . . all of them.
    My family.