Page 191 of Sinful Lies

God, I hated that thing. It was too bright, too happy, too… wrong.

“I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“You’re here because you don’t want to be dead.”

The words hit like a gut punch, knocking the air out of me.

I turned my head just enough to glare at her. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Her voice softened, but it didn’t lose that edge of truth I loathed so much. “You could’ve chosen rehab. Or you could’ve vanished entirely. But you didn’t. You came here. That means something, Jade.”

My throat felt tight. “Or maybe I just suck at making decisions. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Or maybe,” she countered, her eyes locking on mine, “there’s a part of you that still wants to fight. Even if you don’t see it right now.”

I sat up, crossing my arms over my chest, like it could shield me from her words. “Fight for what? There’s nothing left, Doc. Nothing worth saving.”

Joy had long since abandoned my life, leaving nothing but an empty shell.

And maybe that was a mercy.

Happiness—so bright, so intoxicating—was nothing more than a cruel mirage.

It lifted you high only to send you crashing down. And the fall? The fall tore through you, leaving scars so deep they never truly healed.

The wreckage it left behind was never worth the fleeting light.

“That’s not true, Jade.”

I scoffed, shaking my head as I looked away. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything, to watch the people you love—” My voice cracked, and I bit down on the words, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Dr. Morano stayed quiet for a moment, letting the weight of my outburst settle. “You’re right. I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through. But I know pain, Jade. And I know it doesn’t have to define you.”

“Feels like it already has, Doc.”

I’d tried everything—every trick, every lie, every distraction. Drowning in work, chasing highs, numbing myself to the point of oblivion. I clawed at normalcy like it was some lifeline I could hold on to, tried to keep the monsters in my head chained up tight. But no matter what I did, I always ended up back here. Back at square fucking one.

Because that’s all I was—a goddamn failure.

I wasn’t able to save my mom from falling apart after she’d lost the love of her life.

I wasn’t able to stop my sister from stepping onto that mine.

I wasn’t even able to pretend that I was fine. Not for anyone. Not even for myself.

Failure is all I’d known.

And maybe it was time I stopped fighting it. Maybe it was time to let it win.

Dr. Morano studied me with that maddening calm, the kind that made me feel exposed.

She leaned forward. “Maybe the missing piece isn’t about forgetting or pretending, Jade. Maybe it’s about finding a real purpose again. Something that matters. Something worth living for.”

“Purpose?” I shot back, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “What’s the purpose of dragging around a body that feels like a corpse?”

“That’s the thing about ashes, Jade,” she whispered. “They’re not the end of the story. They’re the roots of it. Ashes feed the soil. They’re where things grow. Where life starts over.”

The air felt heavy, thick with something I couldn’t name.

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