Octavia had already made up her own mind about it, anyway. It wasn't easy for her to trust her therapist, but she viewed her discomfort as the price to pay for trying to get better.

She knew how he felt, though.

Her fingertips rubbed the back of his neck gently. "I mean it more like... Like therapy is hard." That was not news, no. "It's being stuck in a room with all the shitty things that have happened." Her fingers moved, slid into his hair again. "And that street corner feels like freedom."

Basically it was what he'd said, just from her own angle.