"Not for you." Or for Madison when things had been really, really bad but she had a feeling that was suggestion more than anything. Mild bipolar disorder didn't come with voices as far as she remembered. It was funny, in a non-humorous way at all, how a place that was supposed to heal or at least make you better mentally tended to do the exact opposite. Especially, she guessed, on teen girls whose hormones were all over the map and whose brains were mushy and still in development. Ah, good times.
At Lisa's thanks, Madison simply nodded; what she said next Madison interpreted as figurative, but either way she gave the other woman a penetrating stare, devoid of a smile. "They might. They really might. They can melt any kind of glue if they want it enough."
She had a pleasant smile, if one betraying a little of the crazy in the eyes. Madison smiled back in thanks at the remark about her hair, taking a mesh of it and observing the color as if she'd never done it before. "Oh...places. But mostly Boston."