"Your son," Chris nodded a bit, popping another chip into his mouth, "You go to therapy or anything for that shit? What you saw, what you dealt with?" Chris tilted his head and sat back in his seat, raising his eyebrows. He had done the therapy circuit a few times thanks to his convictions. Not to mention his times with Sister Pete, "Cathartic and all that, I hear." Bull shit. But Chris could pretend with the best of them, and did he ever sound sincere when he said that.