Marianne is crying. It’s our second session together. She sits before me and cries and cries. Abuse. Words from our first session come to mind. It has to do with abuse. I don’t know anything more. Now I hear only crying and see only her red hair and hands covering her face. Where is she really? Does she disappear into the tears, into a flashback from the assault, the past experienced as though it is the present? Am I losing her now? What should I do? My stomach tenses. I hold my breath. Yet at the same time, as I become aware of this, I can draw a deep breath and exhale calmly. I feel my back, rear and thighs against the chair. My feet on the floor. I am here. Calmer. Now I can also invite her to feel a foundation while she cries.