The shadows are lengthening and the sunlight has softened into afternoon's honey gold by the time I'm finished telling Kitty all about that day.

She's sitting still as a statue in the armchair opposite me, bathed in patches of multicolored light streaming in through the huge stained glass window behind us. It's like she's in an impressionist painting, streaked with red and green and blue light, and I imagine I'm spilling out my story to a brightly jewel-encrusted portrait of some noblewoman from a bygone era.

It makes it easier to talk.

The words rush out of me, a flood of grief that I didn't even realize I'd been damming up.

Kitty doesn't interrupt me, not even once – only nodding her head from time to time, listening in absolute silence. Even as I tell her about how I watched everyone die, how Mia lay at the bottom of the bus with her head cracked open in a pool of blood, or how Evan sacrificed himself to send me to safety through the emergency exit glass. She just gazes at me intently, her expression veiled as I lay myself bare.

The only thing I leave out is all the craziness with the dreams, the feeling of being followed, the strange time warp thing that happened with my bicycle in the forest. I'm saving those details for Dr Martel's couch. Kitty will definitely think I'm nuts if I tell her about my hallucinations.

Because that's what they are. That's all they could possibly be. Fantasy. Delusions.

I do however tell her my reasons for deciding not to get any more involved with Fable than I already am. I try to explain how I realized that I wasn't just an ordinary fan – maybe I was before the accident, but afterwards, it became my whole life. I've been obsessed, like a Star Wars geek walking around dressed like Darth Vader. I was using the whole thing as a sort of band-aid for my trauma.

It wasn't normal, and she'd helped me to see that. The reality check yesterday had made it all so clear.

I just need to get on with my life. No more dreaming away the pain.

I'm about to ask her for the hundredth time not to tell the boys what I've just told her, when she suddenly lunges forward and wraps her arms around me.

She holds me tight, and I feel her body heaving with silent sobs.

"You're wrong," she says.

She lets go of me, wiping her eyes and smearing mascara down the side of her face.

"Walking away now won't solve anything," she says as tears roll down her cheeks. "Things happen for a reason. I know it sounds like New Agey bull, but I really believe that. You were meant to meet us. You're meant to be here now."

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I nod, not sure what to say. I want to believe her, but I don't know what to make of the sudden turn-around. Yesterday she had me against a tree in a choke-hold. Now she's Dr Phil.

"You want to be a professional musician, right?" Kitty says. "Felix told me you're in a band. Sitting on some doctor's couch dosed up to kingdom come isn't going to get you any closer to making your dreams a reality. Stick with us, be a part of what we're doing here, and I promise we'll make it worth your while."

"Thanks," I say. "I just... this is really sudden. Why are you being so nice to me?"

Kitty sighs, and her eyes well up with tears again.

"I can't take back what happened yesterday," she says. "I didn't know the full story. And I had my reasons. Like I said before, contrary to how it might seem, I'm not really a bitch. Sometimes I just have to be one. I've gotta protect the people who matter to me."

The memory of Kitty telling me about the psycho girl who attacked Felix backstage surfaces again.

I think I understand.

"And it's not just for you," she continues. "I want you to stay for him. Recently Felix seemed to be drawing away from the band. From everything they built up. You probably heard rumors in the news about him leaving Fable."

I nod. There are constantly stories flying around in the press about Felix or Alastaire going solo, but in the past few months the speculation has been going wild. He's been even snappier in interviews than usual, more sarcastic and colder than ever before. As if it's all just a massive waste of his time.

"Well, for the first time in ages he's actually invested," she says. "He actually cares again. Enough to ask you for your help. And trust me, that's not something I've ever seen Felix do before. With most people, it's like he couldn't give a damn. But this is different. He sees you."

She reaches out and places her hand on my shoulder.

"We need you, ok?" She says. "Stick around a bit longer. No pressure."

We both laugh nervously.

There's no going back. She's right. Whatever this is, I need to figure it out myself. I can step away from it at any time. But it's too early to back out.

"Ok," I say. "I'm in."

"Thanks," she whispers. "And sorry."

She swoops in for another hug, and I can feel that she's crying again.

I guess sometimes the toughest shells are protecting to softest hearts.

She's sobbing quietly but steadily, and I wonder where I can find a tissue for her. Not sure how to comfort her, I smooth down her hair, the same wild dark midnight brownish-black as Felix's.

"Nice," a voice rings from across the room. "A bit of girl on girl action in front of the fireplace. Just what the doctor ordered."

Alastaire slips onto a bar stool at the kitchen counter, grinning at us while Kitty jumps out of my arms.

"Don't stop because of me," he says. "Please, by all means, carry on. I'm not even here."

"As if!" Kitty snaps at him, dabbing at her eyes as she turns bright red.

"How was your nap Cupcake?" Alastaire asks me. "Did you see me in your dreams? I know I've been seeing you in mine."

"Gross!" Says Kitty. "Save the lame pick up lines for your groupies Al. And put on some clothes."

"Do NOT call me Al," Alastaire says with a pout.

It takes me a moment to realize he's totally shirtless, his lightly tanned skin beaded with perspiration and his golden blonde hair held back messily in a headband.

"Hey Ash!" Ben says with a cheeky grin as he walks into the room. He's shirtless like Alastaire, his trademark skulls and bones bandana tied around his head. "Do you like marshmallows?"

Errr... what?