“What was that for?” Darren asked, surprised.
Jayden shrugged. “You seem okay today. Call it a reward?”
“If only therapy was that simple.” Darren quirked a smile. “One sec. Mish, try breathing when you talk, she might understand what you want then.”
From the odd Facebook picture, Jayden had known what Misha looked like, but the sheer lack of resemblance was even more startling in the flesh. Her hair was wispy and blonde, not curly and dark; he supposed that her blue eyes might go the same odd shade of pale green as she grew up, but they weren’t right now, and all the facial features were wrong in a way that couldn’t quite be put down to just age and gender. She didn’t look like her brother at all.