Heading home from Julie’s office, Pete reached into his jacket pocket and touched the plastic beads of the gifted Rosary. Little spheres that he rolled between his fingers.

  "Catholic stuff," he pondered. "Again?”

  And for the first time in several weeks, Pete found himself looking back on a memory from his "pre-breakdown life" without feeling physically sick. Something he hadn’t thought to share in session, but, oddly enough, now seemed much more than a coincidence.

  [It had happened seven years ago.

  He’d gotten a flat on his way home from work one night. He remembered taking the spare out of the trunk of the car and finding a small medallion lying underneath. It was pewter, with an image of the Virgin Mary carved into it.

  “O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee,” were the words that bordered her likeness.

  He didn’t feel right just throwing it out, so he decided to keep it. Over the years, coming to think of the medallion as a lucky charm.]

  And it was still there, safe in his wallet, waiting to be remembered, when he arrived home.

  “That’s kind of weird,” he said, moments later, staring at the computer in the spare room.

  “What’s weird?” Natalie called from across the apartment.

  Pete took out the medallion and set it on the desk next to the Rosary.

  “Nothing, it’s just that Flanagan gave me this Rosary tonight at the end of our session. She thought it might help me to focus on things other than all the scary universe crap.” He trailed off, inspecting both pieces more closely.

  Natalie came in from around the corner. “And what’s that?” she asked, pointing at the smaller object.

  Pete laughed. “Right? So, get this. Remember my old Neon?” (Natalie smiled) “When I first got that car, I found this underneath the spare tire. And I kept it.” He picked up the medal, showing it to his wife. “I think it’s a Catholic thing too.” He flipped it over, displaying the other side, then set it back down beside the Rosary beads. “That’s kind of like a... strange coincidence, right?”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “But you’re not Catholic,” Natalie interjected.

  Pete gave a patronizing smile, his eyes wide. “Yes, I’m aware of that. Thank you.”

  Natalie feigned insult.

  “Ok then, smart ass … why did you keep it if you’re not Catholic?”

  “I don’t know.” He answered. “It looked kinda cool. Plus, haven’t you ever watched Rudy?”

  Natalie rolled her eyes as she turned to leave. “That stupid football movie with the kid from Goonies?”

  Now it was Pete’s turn to be upset. He followed her into the living room, arguing his case. “Yes! That incredible true story about the strength of the human spirit, where the Catholic underdog achieves his dreams against impossible odds!”

  Natalie stared at him, unimpressed…

  “I’m not becoming Catholic,” she stated flatly.

  “Neither am I!” Pete yelled. “All I’m saying is, it’s kind of an odd coincidence. That’s all!”

  Natalie grabbed the TV remote and looked up at Pete for a moment more, trying her best to hide her amusement. “Still not gonna be Catholic."

  “Fine! Whatever!” He shouted, storming off.

  Natalie smiled. She could hear him muttering in the other room. “Almost forgot how fun it is to get him riled up like that.” She remembered. And from out on the couch, she swore she heard him quietly chanting “Rudy. Rudy …”, staring at his computer screen.

  She started flipping through channels, eventually (ironically) settling on one of her favorite movies. Constantine.

  And while Keanu Reeves battled demons on one screen, Pete Bishop started researching on another.

  “Prayer and mental health.” He said to himself, typing the words into his search bar. “I mean, Grandpa was an Episcopal Priest, so, it’s not like I don’t understand theology.”

  He cracked his knuckles above the keys, giving himself time to rationalize. “Still though, The Rosary?”

  But based on what he read that night, it became clear that it wasn't just Catholic prayers having an effect on mental health; it was all prayer: “Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, Muslim,” he listed, staring at the screen. “It’s all of them!”

  “Alright, Julie,” Pete said to the empty room. “You’ve got me curious.”

  He picked up the beads, studying them. “So, what is the deal here?" he asked, scanning The Rosary results online. "Five 'mysteries' for each day you say it. And each day you're supposed to do a different set of – wait…what's a 'mystery'?"

  On it went, into the early morning hours. Pete took notes, watched videos, and debated the "pros and cons" of incorporating a new resource into his strategy for recovery.

  There was a moment when that sensation of ‘being watched’ returned. Pete responded simply by focusing harder on his study.

  Though just before the feeling faded, a new image popped into his mind alongside the usual “Evil Gandalf”. A second object. Something smaller. Weirder.

  It was a little girl.

  But it was only a flash. And he was far too distracted and tired to entertain a new fear.

  Finally, with his energy spent, he left the spare room and climbed into bed next to his wife. He smiled watching her sleep so soundly.

  “I’m trying Nat.” He whispered, lightly touching her brunette curls. “Its hard, but I’m trying.” Then a thought occurred that filled him with a kind of sad relief.

  “Thank God this only happened to me.” He decided.

  “I don’t know what I’d do if she was the one stuck in this mess.”