Lynn reaches out for my arm and takes my hand in hers. “Sophie, I think you should give it a few days. Stay and let them help you. You’ve been through so much stress.”

I glance between her and her son and make the connection. “You both think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

Lynn tightens her grasp on my hand and shakes her head adamantly. “No, Sophie. We don’t think that at all.”

Kipton takes my other hand and his answer is written all over his face. He’s worried. “Beautiful, I was so scared when I found you. I can’t see you like that ever again. They can help you get back on track.”

“Please, Kipton. I just need you. Then I’ll be okay.” But I can tell by his expression that he doesn’t believe my line of bullshit any more than I do. He’s always rescued me, but this time he’s not enough. This time, I have to do it on my own.

WAKING GROGGILY, I’M CONFUSED ABOUT where I am. No longer surrounded by machines, this room is empty yet warmer—less sterile. It feels more like my dorm and less like a hospital.

The bruise on my arm remains, but the IV is gone. Where is everyone? Cautiously, I get out of bed to explore my surroundings. The hallways are carpeted with warm lights lining the walls. In between each light are wall hangings covered in inspirational quotes.

Passing by a few open doors, everyone looks occupied in some way yet without a care in the world. It can only be described as peaceful ignorance. That is until I reach the end of the hall and see a young girl being walked down a hallway with her hands cuffed behind her back. She doesn’t stay in one of the rooms like mine; instead she’s taken through a different set of doors. Doors that I don’t ever want to walk through.

“Sophie, nice to see you’re awake.”

I struggle to match the familiar face with a name. Maura. “Thank you. It’s been awhile hasn’t it?”

“Yes, the medication we gave you to help you sleep is very effective. Hopefully you’re feeling a little better now that you’ve gotten some rest.”

“I do.” I look around for a waiting area, but don’t see anything. “My family, I mean my boyfriend’s family, have they all gone home?”

“They have. You’ll be able to have some time to speak to them if you follow your therapy plan and attend your group sessions. It’s important for you to focus on your recovery while you’re here. Without outside distractions.”

“I understand.” Kipton’s definitely a distraction. But one I miss.

“I was on my way to your room for your first session. Would you like to grab a drink from the machine and meet me in the first room on the right? Just press the button for what you want. No money needed.”

They don’t waste any time diving in. “Sure.” I press the button for a bottle of water and wait for it to fall. I find the meeting room around the corner and sit down next to Maura. “This is awkward. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or do.” My hands are freezing and the temperature of the cold bottle is making me shiver.

“Treat it like any other counseling session. Say what you want or what you need to with the reassurance that I’m not here to judge you. I’m only here to help you work through your thoughts. I want you to begin to process them in a healthy way. Can you do that?”

“I can try.”

Maura smiles warmly. “Then you’ll do fine.”

We spend the next hour talking about my childhood. The few times I have to talk about the closet, I get anxious. So anxious I have to get up and walk over to one of the windows in order to find another breath. Maura watches me and if she’s waiting for me to break, she may get her wish.

But instead of dwelling on the topic, she shifts to easier questions about college and Kipton. I’m thankful she isn’t pushing too hard too fast. But I’m on to her. She’s mixing in things I love with the things I hate. So as much as I dread it, there will be more questions about the past.

“Kipton’s everything to me. He’s the reason I want to get better.”

“The only reason?” She questions.

“Right now he’s my motivation, but I’m hoping that’s not the case forever.” I want to do this for him, but I already know I have to want it for myself or none of this will work.

“Do you love him?”

It’s the easiest question she’s asked me so far. “Of course I do. He’s saved me more than once. I’m not sure I’d be sitting here right now if he hadn’t found me when he did.”

“Why wouldn’t you be sitting here?” she cautiously questions.

“I had no place to go. If there had been no Kipton, I would have been in my car for days until the dorms opened back up. And then, I would have quit the team or maybe even stayed just to be able to stay in school. But I wouldn’t have been happy. I’d still be living in a lie with a family I can’t stand.”

“So you rely on him to keep you on solid ground?”

“No. I can do it myself, I always have. Although it wouldn’t have been nearly as easy. He found me and took me home. His family accepted me right away, without even having to try to make them like me.”

“Why would you have to make them like you? How would you do that?”

“I’ve always had to work for love. For attention. It was never willingly given. And when it was, it usually came with a motive—one that benefited them and was an inconvenience for me. So for his whole family to open their door to me, to give me a place to stay, it blew me away. Part of me still wants to be perfect so they don’t have a reason to see my weaknesses. But I know they already have. The moment his mom walked into the room and saw me, I felt like the air cracked around her as I waited for her to yell at me or to tell me what a failure I am. It’s the reaction my Dad and Blaine would have given me.”

She takes notes after everything I say, jotting down so much my file is bound to be a hundred pages by the end of this session. “Do you believe you’re a failure, Sophie?”

“Sometimes I do. Other times it’s easier to blame someone else instead.”

We discuss a few more things before she drops a bomb on me. I didn’t see it coming and I’m not sure I would have wanted to. “Sophie, I’m not trying to break you down or push, but I’d like to make you aware of your treatment plan. It includes bringing your biological Father in for a few sessions.”

“With me? Like in the same room at the same time?”

“Yes. Before you get upset, hear me out. I’m not asking you to have a relationship with your Mom, Dean, or your Father. What I am asking is that you speak your peace to at least one of them. I think here would be a great place to begin. From the reports I reviewed, you were doing very well until you found out the truth of your paternity and were given the letters. Do you agree with that generalization?

“Yes. I felt really good until I went home for Thanksgiving break. Then it all came crashing down once I found out the truth about Coach. It spiraled even more after I read his letters.”

“That’s a fair assessment. Would this be something you would consider?”

I stand up and pace. Chewing on my thumbnail, I can’t imagine sitting down with Coach Evans and discussing his words. Of course I have so many questions for him. I must have thought of fifty or more after I left his office. “I’m angry with him.”

“What makes you angry?”

“That I don’t hate him. I hate that I don’t hate him. I’m supposed to. I should.”

Maura nods her head and takes more notes. I’m going to take her pen soon. It’s making me nervous. “I can see why you would feel that way. It makes logical sense.”

“Do you ever have an opinion, Maura? Or aren’t you allowed to tell me what you really think?”

She smiles and laughs to herself, as she takes more notes. “I have all kinds of opinions, Sophie. But they aren’t what you need. What you need is help processing your own opinions. Not mine.”