The therapist.

Silence. The therapist smiles lightly, but I don't mirror it. She tries again. "Hot and sunny... outdoor activities to do with friends... places to visit? How many places have you visited?" "Just Stonehenge," I whisper, and have to stop myself from flinching when I hear myself utter the name. The therapist nods slowly. I can already see where this is going. "Would you like to talk about what happened that summer? It helps sometimes, to revisit things. We might discover something new?" "What's left to discover?" I say quietly, slowly meeting her eye. "Nothing more to talk about. You've already got your ideas. And I've seen others'." She looks a little cautious now, but does her best to mask it. I know they're all afraid of me. All because of a stupid flower. Chase Devil, that's what it's called. A delicate-looking yellow flower, with thin, golden filaments sprouting up from the centre and a distinct, resinous scent. Because although the longest day of the year seems all merry and bright, there's still darkness that lurks all around, hidden in the shadows, in places you'd never think of looking. You bind the flowers into a garland and carry them on your person, and they supposedly ward of those dark spirits.