Page 209 of Unexpected Heroine

Busted.

She’s sad because she’s noticed my little issue with taking food or drink from others.

“Sure.”

It’s not a lie. I did eat.

In my room. Three protein bars I brought from home.

“And did you have anything to drink?”

“Yep.”

Water bottles from home.

“What did you have?”

“Protein. Fiber. Water,” I hedge, offering a sweet smile to sell it.

“Lettie, I promise to do my best to help you through this shitty, unfair nightmare you’ve found yourself living through. I need you to always be honest with me, though.”

I exhale, flapping my lips in a raspberry. “Fine.”

After I confess to my pre-wrapped and sealed smuggled nutrition, she thanks me for being honest. The silence settles again. Neither of us makes any effort to wrap things up. She’s not done yet. I can see her thoughts swirling behind her intelligent eyes.

A few seconds later, my theory is proven correct.

“Lettie, remember at the beginning of the session when I asked why you were here?”

Lips pressed tightly together, I nod, waiting to see where she’s going.

“That was an intentional question.”

Why is she looking at me like I failed a test? Rude.

I quirk my head. “I thought you said there are no wrong answers.”

“Nothing you said or did was wrong,” she reassures me. “But I do find it very telling that in all the things we talked about,” she pauses to glance at the clock on the wall, “for almost two hours, you never once mentioned the abduction or captivity.”

I have no response to that.

We touched on my raising, religious trauma, the sorrow of losing Papa, and the shock of finding out my parents were dead, only to later find out my father is alive. I even touched on how devastated I’ve been since finding out my boyfriend was lying to me.

Never once mentioned the trauma that truly led me here.

She doesn’t let me stew in the heavy moment for long. “I always start that way with new patients because it’s a great way to get insight into where they are in their journey of processing trauma. Some girls can only focus on that, speaking of nothing else. Some avoid it, much like you did. And others can’t stop crying. A small percentage rage or outright refuse to talk. Healing is a spectrum. Now I know where you are.”

My eyes mist over, but I hold back the tears.

For once.

“You’ve had a lot of reasons to lose faith in humanity lately. I absolutely won’t find fault if you don’t trust me right away. But I promise you, I’ll do my best to help you heal. Have some patience and faith, okay?”

Unspeaking, I nod and wipe away a single tear that escapes.

She reaches over the coffee table, offering me her hand. I take it eagerly, letting her soft skin soothe me.

“In the meantime, I’ll ask the dining manager to ensure your food and drinks are sealed. Will that make you comfortable enough to eat and drink?”

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