“So,” she interjected in a conversational tone. “Why are you having difficulty sleeping?” Her question seemed to catch him off guard. He stared at her over the rim of his cup. “Do you have nightmares?” she probed. He inhaled carefully. “No.” “What was your last dream?” “I don’t remember.” “How come you don’t remember?” “Do you remember your last dream?” Shahrzad canted her lips to the side in thought. “Yes.” “Tell me what it was about.” “It’s a bit a strange.” “Most dreams are.” “I was in a grassy field with . . . my best friend. We were twirling. I was holding her hands. We were spinning
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