It's hard to answer that question with anything other than I saw a ghost. And she doesn't want to think-- she doesn't know what to make of it anymore, honestly. As earnestly as she'd believed back then that the experience was real, she'd convinced herself since that it couldn't have been.

"I... became convinced there was more to it," she says, because that's true. "The rash of deaths, the unlikely excuses-- and if you looked beyond the staged accidents there were ritualistic aspects, injuries meant to mimic the deaths of saints. I don't know what I was thinking, honestly, except that no one seemed to care and it was all too strange to be that simple."

There's a faraway look in her eyes as she tries to navigate the memories. She's moved, ironically, from belief to skepticism to a sort of questioning that's inherently uneasy. There are things she never did manage to explain-- and for most of her life she'd decided it meant they couldn't be true. But she has to admit-- she could never disprove most of it, either.

"Carinda thought-- well, I think she thought everyone was psychic, really. She had no idea what was going on; but she was so welcoming, it meant there were always people around for Sunlight. And I guess... It was a confusing time," she says carefully. "I think I was grasping at straws, anything that might help make sense of it, so when he offered me a session to better understand my alleged abilities..."

She grimaces. Foolish, and so unlike her that she half expects Mulder to chide her. Lord knows she's chiding her younger self.