“They were the only ones who ever loved me,” he said, his voice cracking. “Not for my money, not for what I could do for
them. Just me.”
I nodded, understanding in my chest. “That’s rare. To be loved like that.”
“Everyone keeps saying I should see a therapist. My friends, my secretary. They say I’m angry all the time now. Depressed.”
He shook his head. “I tell them I’m fine. I tell everyone I’m fine.”
“But you’re not,” I said softly. “And that’s okay.”
He looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time. “How do people do this? How do they lose someone and keep going?”
I thought about my adoptive father, how I’d felt when he died. And about my real parents–the loss I couldn’t even remember
but had shaped my whole life.
“One day at a time,” I said. “Sometimes one minute at a time. And you let yourself feel it. All of it. Even the parts that hurt.”
He was quiet for a long time, just looking out the window at the garden. When he spoke again, his voice was different–softer,
more open.
“I feel something today,” he said. “For the first time since it happened. I don’t know what it is, but it’s something besides numb.” He looked back at me. “Thank you, Dr. Beckett.”
“Janet,” I said. “You can call me Janet.”
When our session ended, I walked Edward back to his room. He wasn’t magically healed–no one could be, after what he’d
been through. But something had shifted. A door had opened, just a crack.
Dr. Martinez was waiting for me at the nurses‘ station, her eyes wide with questions,
“He talked to you,” she said as I approached. “Actually you guys talked.”
I nodded. “He’s ready to start healing. It will take time, but he’s open to it now.”
She stared at me like I had performed a miracle. “Janet, we’ve been trying to reach him for a week. How did you…?”
I shrugged, not sure how to explain. “Sometimes people just need someone who understands their kind of pain.”
Dr. Martinez smiled, shaking her head in wonder. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. I’d like you to continue as his primary counselor, if you’re willing.”
“Of course,” I said, feeling a warm glow of pride. This was what I had always wanted–to help people, to make a difference.
3/4
Chapter 0019
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As we walked back to her office to discuss Edward’s treatment plan, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: purpose. I belonged here, doing this work. Not because of who my family was, but because of what I could do.
The rest of the day passed quickly. I met with two more patients, filled out paperwork, and set up my office with the few personal items I had brought. Before I knew it, it was time to go home.
As I walked out the front doors, I saw a familiar car pulling into the parking lot. Peter’s sleek black BMW rolled to a stop in
front of me, and he rolled down the window.
“How was the first day, superstar?” he asked, grinning. “It’s great, ” I answered as I dashed into the car.
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