Chapter 17
17
“Amani, hey.” I approached her in the break room, where she was scrolling on her phone. “I was looking for you this morning.”
“Doctor’s appointment.” She set down her soda, engagement ring glittering in the fluorescent lights. “What’s up?”
“This is going to sound a little weird.” Better to give her fair warning. “But I think Catherine left something for me on your phone.”
Amani cocked her head. “Huh?”
“Yeah.” I knew how it sounded, so I tried to explain the note as calmly as possible.
“Okaaay.” She drew out the word. “Well, let’s see if we can find anything. Where should we look?”
“Maybe the notes app?” That seemed like the most obvious place. I peered over her shoulder as she glanced through the notes. “Maybe that one?” I pointed.
“Nope. This is all me.”
“Hmm. Maybe she took a picture of something?” I mused.
“Here’s the thing.” Amani tapped one white-painted nail against the screen. “I was sitting next to her the entire time. I would’ve noticed if she wrote anything, or took a picture of anything.”
“Yeah.” A pull of disappointment in my belly. “So all she did…”
“Was listen to podcasts.”
“Which one?”
“Which podcast?”
“Yeah.” A new hope emerged. “What was she listening to?”
Amani opened the podcasts app, which showed a row of recent listens.
“Okay, this one.” She clicked on a square. The podcast picture showed a tall blond man and a shorter dark-haired woman smiling warmly into the camera. The background was bright turquoise, the title splashed in bold capital letters: THIS IS WHY YOU’RE SINGLE: A PODCAST ABOUT DATING AND RELATIONSHIPS.
Amani clicked and a quick-voiced ad filled the room. She fast-forwarded and stopped.
“I swear to god!” a male voice cried.
“That’s ridiculous,” the woman responded, her voice low and sardonic. She had an accent I couldn’t immediately place. “Listeners, I apologize on behalf of my partner. He knows not what he does.”
I pulled the podcast up on my own phone. “That’s the most recent episode?” I asked.
“Yup.”
I scanned the episode notes. Episode 102: Ghost Lover: Why We Date Who We Date. Moon and Sol take a deeper dive into the term “ghost lover.” Integrating research and philosophy, they explain how our intrinsic longing to merge with another causes us to project our needs and desires. Moon and Sol explain how to find our own ghost lovers so we can banish them and see others as they truly are.
Below this, linked text said: Learn more about our offerings at the Center for Relational Healing. I clicked and a new website popped up, showing a group of people smiling and laughing in front of a mosaic-covered wall. I scanned their faces, half expecting to see Catherine. Nope.
“The Center for Relational Healing?” Amani looked over my shoulder. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Me either.” The About Us tab showed a full-length picture of the podcast couple. The guy was in his forties, windblown and confident, with a sleeve tattoo that gave him an aging rocker vibe. The woman gazed out from underneath his arm with an impish smile, her nose ring glinting. She looked to be in her thirties or forties, with large eyes and a lot of dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. They were both tan.
Moon and Sol met in Los Angeles ten years ago and knew their partnership would have a lasting effect on the world…
“Isn’t ‘Sol’ the Spanish word for ‘sun’?” Amani asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “So they’re calling themselves Sun and Moon.”
“Now that’s cheesy.”
I clicked on the Photos tab, stopping on a picture of a swimming pool surrounded by swaying palms and colorful lounge chairs.
“Look.” Amani showed me a picture of a group in front of a huge firepit. One woman was crying, while Moon crushed her in a hug, also crying.
“That’s intense.” I clicked on the Retreat tab.
The Center is typically closed to everyone but full-time students. However, once a month we offer a weekend three-day intensive for those who would like to get a taste of our philosophy. People often come out of this weekend with their entire lives changed. In fact, we offer a money-back guarantee to those who don’t believe the CRH Method caused their relationships to blossom.
There was a sign-up tab below with monthly dates—the next was this coming weekend.
I scrolled down to the Details section, which included pricing. I blew out a breath. Damn. Four thousand dollars for two nights? Plus airfare to… I scrolled to the bottom of the page for the address. New Mexico?
“It looks kind of cult-y, right?” Amani said, just as I noticed the symbol at the bottom of the page. Holding my breath, I zoomed in, blowing it up until it covered the screen.
A dotted spiral trapped in a triangle.
“This is the symbol!” I cried. “Catherine’s tattoo! It’s also the birthmark from Stargirl .” I slumped back in my chair as wonder and relief filtered through me. This was the message I’d been searching for.
Amani looked confused. “Why would the retreat center use a symbol from an old movie?”
“No idea. But Catherine is clearly connected to this place. She might be there now.”
“But what if it’s a coincidence?” Amani asked. “Or what if Catherine did go there, and liked that they used the same symbol and decided to get a tattoo? Or—who knows, maybe she just likes the podcast.”
“The bio says that Moon and Sol met in LA,” I said. “Where Catherine lived. She must’ve met them there.”
“Maybe.” Amani looked unconvinced, but it didn’t matter. I was certain this was what Catherine had wanted me to find.
The rest of the day flew by, but I pulled out my phone and started googling on the subway home. There were several articles about the Center for Relational Healing on second- or third-tier women’s sites, all with titles that were variations on “THIS RETREAT PROMISES YOU A PARTNER.” I was surprised to read that the group basically guaranteed that you’d find “your person or persons” within three months.
One article, titled “Healership Stories: A Conversation with Moon and Sol,” called them a “spiritual power couple.” The short and clearly paid-for interview showed pictures of Moon and Sol in meditation poses and laughing in each other’s arms. My eyes lingered on one paragraph.
Moon: We think it’s possible to meet a highly compatible partner or partners. But you have to be willing to do the work first. If you don’t, your own ghost lover will get in the way. That’s the image you have of the perfect partner, which is made of parts of yourself that you’ve disowned. For example, if a woman has cut herself off from her power—something requested of women all the time—then she might long for a powerful partner. But if she’s able to reconnect with her power, then she can find someone who does or doesn’t have that trait; it’s no longer a need stemming from lack.
That was actually interesting. I remembered “imago theory” from one of my clinical classes; it seemed like the same thing. Could I apply that to Ryan? Had he had traits that I longed for? With his confidence and ease, maybe so. I felt a sudden stab of loss and pushed him out of my mind.
I clicked on a Medium article from a woman who’d gone to the retreat. She coyly stated that she couldn’t say too much about the methods—apparently people were sworn to secrecy—but that she’d been deeply affected and had in fact met her “life partner” just three weeks later. I tracked her down on Instagram—and indeed, there was her dude, smiling across various restaurant tables at her.
I also found an article about the Center on an art site, with pictures of the mosaicked building and pool. It named the artist as Steven Leister and said the building was a “communal living space in the desert.”
Nothing overtly negative or cult-y yet. But it felt strange that the articles only referred to Moon and Sol by their first names. And there was very little about their backgrounds—just one piece that referred to Moon as a “yoga and wellness instructor from Mexico” and Sol as a “former musician and entertainer.”
A hit came up on Reddit in a thread for empowerment workshops. A Redditor had responded to someone who’d recommended the Center for Relational Healing:
STAY FAR, FAR AWAY FROM THIS PLACE
Well, that was ominous. Several Redditors wrote back, asking for more info, but the person never responded.
The Redditor—User40458312—had only posted this one comment about two weeks ago. I clicked on Start Chat .
Hi there, I just saw your post about the Center for Relational Healing. I am actually looking for Catherine O’Brien, who has ties to CRH. Do you know her? I’m a friend— close enough —and am worried about her. Thanks.
The CRH didn’t have a social media presence at all. But overall, the lack of info deflated me. Sure, there was one strange comment. But they hadn’t shared any explanation; maybe they’d just had a bad time. If shady things were going on, wouldn’t more people be talking about it?
Maybe Amani was right—maybe it was just a coincidence that the Center used the Stargirl image. And even if Catherine was somehow involved in the Center, it didn’t necessarily mean she was back there now. Could I be reading too much into her note? It was possible she’d truly forgotten that she’d been using Amani’s phone and not mine. She probably had other things on her mind.
Still, I continued to scroll through the Center’s site over dinner. A Resources page showed dozens if not hundreds of photos. There were quite a few with groups, ranging from six people to more than twenty. The vast majority of them were white people—maybe not uncommon in certain types of New Agey circles? I zoomed in, studying the faces.
Wait. A smiling male face popped out at me.
Shaved head, dark eyes, a cleft chin.
It was Dr. Clint, the so-called therapist who had pressed his number into my hand. A number that was no longer in service.
I studied the picture, searching every face. No Catherine.
Moon and Sol stood at the center of the group, grinning widely.