Molly’s pacing again. Back and forth across the apartment, fingers twisting in her sweater, breath coming a little too fast.

“What if I mess it all up?” she blurts. “What if this is as good as it gets and I don’t even know how to keep it?”

You stand slowly, careful not to overwhelm her. “Molly. Look at me.”

She tries, but her eyes keep darting.

“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s do one thing at a time. What can you hear right now?”

She hesitates. “The radiator… the clock ticking.”

“Good. What can you feel?”

“The floor. My hands are cold.”

You nod, steady. “You’re here. You’re safe. The future isn’t happening right now.”

Her shoulders shake as she exhales. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to become.”

“You don’t have to know,” you say gently. “You just have to be here. This moment. With me.”

Molly finally sinks onto the couch, and you sit beside her. She leans into you like she’s been holding herself together all day.

“I hate not knowing,” she whispers.