"How's your 'evening session' with Dr. Sexy?"

That's the first thing Alice asked on the first day back in office. Lunch break is always the perfect time for gossiping, and she was eager to squeeze some juice out of Leona, who was known as a workaholic with the most boring "private life", even with the salad and smoothie she bought for her as a bribe to smooth her way in.

But Leona didn't seem that interested in her psychiatrist like her friend assumed: "It's just an evening session."

"Come on, don't bullshit me, no one just 'had evening session' with psychiatrists on Christmas eve." Alice blinked her foxy, blue eyes as she was saying, "No special treatment?"

"No special treatment."

"…Not even dinner?"

"Nope." Sucking the smoothie from a straw, Leona replied with her iconic nothing-happened smile.

Couldn't hide her disappointment, Alice sighed and started sticking her beef lasagna with fork in boredom: "Hmm, thought Dr. Johnson had a chance…I mean, I thought you are into the deep, knowledgeable scholar type since all these Harvard Business boys in the company are too 'shallow' for you, but you are just unbreakable, aren't you? Well…now that you don't want to break the 'clinical boundaries' with your doctor, would you mind me giving a shot?"

Unbreakable? Leona found her comment funny and laughed, but the thought of that strange doctor and that night dampened her moods, so she put on a more serious expression and gave the advice: "Best not, Alice, you won't want to have a relationship with someone who can diagnose your personality defects by a simple look."

The saying was certainly exaggeration, but it did spook Alice successfully: "Alright, point taken."

"How's your sister, by the way?" And Leona took the chance to change the subject quickly, "Is she fully recovered?"

For the next ten minutes Alice went on talking about how well her big sister looked for a mother who just gave birth and what a lovely angel her baby niece was, showing Leona dozens of photos and video clips, and she watched and grinned with that little bitter sweetness inside, as she looked at this pink, soft new life cuddled in white blanket, images of that ghostly Zack showered in blood kept coming back and haunted her. She couldn't stop thinking about how…painful and battered he looked.

It's just illusions, right? She was hit by a thug in the head, it was the day Zack died, she was just hallucinating about how she pictured him dying, it was all because of the guilt and sadness she had for him…That's all, an explanation that totally makes sense psychologically.

She convinced herself so and searched the café for something that could distract her, and there she saw a group of graduate interns, gathering around with laptops in front of them, debating about something on a business case.

"Just like you and me a year ago, huh?" Looking at the same direction, Alice had a sigh, "lowest level of the pyramid, good old times…"

"Alice."

"What?"

"If you can bring your grandmother back, but in exchange, you have to give up everything you have earned in your life, will you do it?"

There was no response coming from Alice, for she was staring at Leona, completely startled and confused. Realizing how blunt it must be to ask something like this out of the blue, Leona waved her hand and laughed it away: "Sorry, stupid question."

But this question seemed more than just a hypothesis to her now, for reasons she couldn't explain. It coiled around her chest throughout the entire week, and the more she thought about it, the more she felt all this…just didn't add up: her psychiatrist brought up the subject of a dead person in her life, and right away she saw that person "coming back to life"? No, her problem was having trust issues, not delusions. Garrett definitely knew something.

Finally, it came to the time for her weekly session, and again it was in the evening. With so many suspicions in mind, Leona walked right into Garrett's office and skipped the greeting: "I saw him."

And not surprisingly, Garrett didn't seem so surprised. He sat down, patiently and carefully heard her out about everything happened at that night, pondered with one hand under his chin for quite a while, and then asked: "How did you feel, seeing him again like that?"

Leona couldn't believe he just played out the psychiatrist script like that: "How did I feel? Hmm…I feel doubtful about many things, like was he real or was it just in my head, for starters."

"Do you think it's real?"

Looking into his eyes, Leona paused and gave her answer: "Yes."

"Then you don't need to doubt your ability to differentiate illusions from reality, Leona," And so Garrett gave his diagnosis, "You are a completely sane and rational individual."

Sounds very reassuring, his comment, but it was what he was implying that astonished Leona.

"So…that's him."

"That's him."

Leona's lips twitched a little, like she was trying to give a smile on a bad joke, then she scoffed, overthrowing her own former opinion: "That's just not possible…"

"Why is it not possible?"

Merely within a second, Garret moved from the armchair to the side of the window, admired the glamour of metropolitan night view while keeping questioning her: "the scope of human cognition is trivial compared to the unknown, so why rush your judgement?"

And Leona was stunned by what he did just now, unable to debate about agnostics: "How did you... do that?"

"Didn't you wonder how Zack just vanished?" When explaining, Garrett showed her again, shifting his positions around room at a speed that almost made it look like teleportation, then stopped right in front of her, "This is how he did it. We are the same."

"…And what are you?" Leona asked, finding herself couldn't do anything but breathed tremulously under his condescending gaze.

Garrett bent over, with his hands holding the arms of her chair, speaking in a frighteningly playful and teasing voice, like cats toying with their preys: "You said you enjoyed Anne Rice, didn't you? Then congratulations, vampires are real."

He smiled, and Leona saw two sharp, conical fangs hidden under his upper lip.

The unbearable fear finally thrusted Leona to the breaking point. Out of sheer survival instinct, she pushed him away and sprinted out, droved like she was a wanted refuge, while kept wiping all the cold sweat on her forehead. Some part of her still found the notion of vampires truly exist preposterous, but as she connected the dots, it actually started to make sense: evening session hours, sun-blocking curtains, pale skin and glowing eyes, and she's never seen another patient of his…and she didn't note all these worrying details because she was under some charming spell of his.

How else could she explain all this? That he's a crazy, creepy LARP fan who has a bad sense of humor and is really good at what he does?

"This is nuts…"

Leona gritted in frustration, turned off the car engine and got out. The familiar smile of the security guard at the lobby of her apartment calmed her down a little, reminding her that she was not living in a horror movie—In worst scenario, she would call the police and let them handle…whatever it was.

So when stepping out of the elevator, she was finally back to the normal, home-coming Leona: grabbed the key, opened the door, took off heels, and ready to greet Alice in a cheerful state: "I'm home!"

"Dinner's ready, it's riso al forno," As she was saying, Alice walked out of the kitchen in Peppa Pig pajamas, "I'm feeling Italian tonight, yay…" But then she stopped all her funny dancing moves, looking at Leona in surprise, "Leo, you didn't tell me you have guest! Now I'm severely underdressed."

"What? I don't…"

Just when Leona was wondering what she was talking about, a gentle voice came from behind suddenly spoke, in a polite and yet natural manner: "Sorry about dropping by without noticing, Leona probably just forgot."

It was Garrett.

Feeling like her heart missed one beat, Leona totally lost her words, watching this well-dressed British gentleman who popped out of nowhere approaching Alice with a harmless smile, while the latter had no idea what was going on, just stood there, dazzled by his magical halo.

"I don't believe we've actually met, I'm Dr. Garrett Johnson," He reached out his hand, "Nice to put a name on a face."

And Alice grabbed his hand and shook: "Hi, Alice Turner…"

Then she blacked out and fell on the carpet.

"What did you do!?" Leona screamed, both angrily and helplessly, keeping Alice behind her, but Garrett just got past her easily, carried Alice up in his arms and asked: "Where's her bedroom? Don't worry, I didn't hurt her, she's sound asleep, I just want to talk to you in private."

Leona knew he must have planned more than to talk, but after witnessing what he could do, she didn't really know how to fight back or escape, so she pointed him the direction after a long hesitation, and Garrett did just put Alice in bed like he promised—and again, in a flash. Feeling slightly safer, Leona cleaned up the mess in her head and walked towards the kitchen, taking out a one-person portion of the baked rice Alice made.

Alright then. If he just wants to talk, then let's talk. Leona thought. It's not like he gave her an option. "Take a seat." She set the table, put down the plate, sat and asked, "If you don't mind?"

"Of course, I don't want to interrupt your dinner." Garrett extended a "please" gesture, "I've already had mine."

The last sentence raised a small upset in her stomach. "So…how old are you, factually?" She put up a cool-headed smile—or at least she tried—then started the meal and the conversation.