Sister Pact by Stacie Ramey

right?”
    â€œLeah did.”
    â€œJust Leah?”
    I nod. It’s not quite true, but it’s mostly on target.
    Dr. Applegate gets up, goes to her desk, and brings back a chart with Leah’s name on it. “Dr. Gates gave this to me to help you.” She makes this big pretense like she’s flipping through the pages, trying to find the right words, even though I know she’s already read the chart, that she already knows what she’s looking for, maybe has the passage highlighted. “She decided because she was the ‘general,’ you were the ‘foot soldier’?”
    My face heats. I feel the rage build. Why would Leah tell them these things and give them ammunition against me? Why did she always break team? I’m not going to answer Dr. Applegate’s insulting questions. I shouldn’t have to.
    â€œWas Leah the general?”
    I shake my head. Not always. She wasn’t always in charge.
    â€œDid Leah take her meds? The ones you don’t want to take?”
    I stand and turn away from her. “I don’t know. You have the chart. What did Dr. Gates say?”
    â€œI thought you and Leah were close.”
    â€œNo, she didn’t take the meds. She didn’t want to.”
    â€œWas that a good decision? Not taking her meds?”
    I bat at a tear that’s gone rogue. “No. I guess not. But we don’t know exactly why she did what she did. She might have had other reasons.”
    Dr. Applegate nods. “She might have. But what’s a good enough reason to kill yourself?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œDo you have reasons to kill yourself?”
    â€œNo.”
    Dr. Applegate pauses as if she’s considering my response. Then before I can tell myself this portion of the session is officially over and we’re changing topics, Dr. Applegate says, “If Leah made all your decisions before, who decides now?”
    Anger wells inside me. I feel it build, and I can’t stop it. Leah said I was stupid about people. She was right. I was stupid to trust Dr. Applegate when this whole time she was ready to pounce on me, using our secret code against me. That was our language. Mine and Leah’s—until Leah gave it up to the enemy. She may as well have painted a big bull’s-eye on my chest.
    â€œAllie? Who makes the decisions now?”
    â€œI do.”
    â€œYou do? You are deciding not to take your meds. Just you? Not Leah’s voice in your head telling you not to?”
    The room spins with her allegation, but I steel myself. “No. Of course not.”
    â€œSometimes when people lose someone they love, they continue to see them, hear them, feel them long after that person’s gone. It’s completely normal.”
    I breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in again. I need to stay calm. Not get rattled.
    â€œI think it’s important that you see the difference between you and Leah. Even if you were ‘bunker buddies,’ you were also different. She danced; you paint.”
    She died. I didn’t.
    â€œShe was depressed; you say you’re not.”
    â€œI’m not. I’m just sad. My sister killed herself. Aren’t I allowed to be sad?”
    â€œYou certainly are, Allie. But what I want to know is why you agreed to the pact to begin with.”
    I press my hands into my head.
    â€œAre you getting a headache?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou need to take something?”
    â€œNo. It’s not bad.”
    â€œYour mother said you need to take your pills when you get headaches.”
    I push in harder. As much as I want the headache to stop, I might need it. I might be able to use it to get to Leah. Because I feel her there, behind the headache, like she’s backstage waiting for her cue. “No. Don’t need them.”
    â€œSo why does your mom think you do?”
    â€œBecause that’s what she does. Whenever anything hurts or is hard, she takes a