I stared at Lila, scrutinizing her face. I was trying to determine if she was lying, if there was some deception behind her casual answer about "YouTube videos" and "massaging her father." But all I could see in her wide, oddly adorable eyes was complete honesty. That meant she hadn't been lying to me when she said she'd only ever worked on her dad and had never learned from any professional.
This was the strange part. It should have been impossible.
I thought about it for a while, running a quick mental check of all the medical records I had accumulated over the years. My headache itself was a strange problem. Every head scan, every doctor's diagnosis, always ended with the same conclusion: nothing was structurally wrong with my brain. Yet, the pain was there, every single day.
