Rory dropped onto the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. "It's Pippa," he said softly, willing his throat to keep from tightening. "She's in a spiral of depression, fear and self-anger. Plus she's been having nightmares. She needs more help than I can give her, but I'm not sure how to persuade her to get professional help. And I've no idea who to recommend even if I could persuade her."

He raked the fingers of his free hand through his hair, then rubbed his tense forehead. "I'd be grateful for any guidance you can give me."