[Time heals all wounds, the saying goes. And man, did they get that wrong. Time has a habit of ripping wounds back open. Especially when you put it in the hands of kids and teens.

She stares as he talks, wiping her eyes now and then to clear them, but for a few minutes he holds her attention completely. She finds herself nodding along.]

And those triggers- the small or the big ones, you can't... avoid them. You... can't even anticipate them.

[The frustration is showing through her. Max has given up so many things, just because they were making her feel worse and not better. Well she still feels like shit now.

It takes a few moments of staring to phrase her next question. And even then she's not sure she wants to ask it. Her voice is soft, gingerly putting out the words.]

That line... straight or not, do you think... you'll, you know. Finish someday? [She hesitates.] Like, you. Personally.