Oblivion

Chapter Twentytwo - Surviving

The office of Dr. Jones was in one of the high-rise buildings that were built around the turn of the millennium and Vito noticed that it wasn't particularly big either. Actually it only consisted of an anteroom, a bathroom, probably a storage room and the actual office. There were lots of plants and a pleasant light, which with the colors of the walls made it unexpectedly cozy and inviting. Nevertheless, Vito was still not sure that he had made the right choice. Dr. Jones was undoubtedly competent and had years of experience in trauma therapy, but he was less qualified than other psychologists. In addition, he actually only treated adults and not young people. But he kept his doubts for Josephine's protection to himself. She was already very tense and Vito was glad that she had agreed at all.

Josephine was indeed nervous. She had spent most of the night debating whether it was a good idea or not and until this moment she didn't have a final opinion. It seemed unrealistic to her that a stranger could understand her and even help her, especially because she brought with her so many problems. And what if he said she was beyond help? What should she do then? So lost in her thoughts, she didn't even notice how they were no longer alone.

Bradford knew the moment he saw her that urgent meant urgent after all. The girl, who looked younger than she actually was, hadn't noticed him yet and so he was able to examine her briefly. She was shockingly thin, her eyes staring blankly at a picture on the wall. His first thought was possible anorexia, but it was just a thought that he quickly pushed away. Smiling, he held out his hand to her. "Hello Josephine, it's nice to meet you."

Startled, Josephine jumped when she heard her name and saw first the hand and then the man it belonged to. He was probably in his mid-forties, slim but untrained and had blonde hair that was slowly turning gray. The ring on his finger suggested that he was married. Was that good or bad?

"Hello," she said quietly and hesitantly shook her hand.

"Thank you for finding an appointment so quickly. Unfortunately, the circumstances required an unconventional approach, but I hope this will not have an impact on Josephine's treatment." Vito also shook the man's hand, who didn't miss the subtle threat.

Bradford decided to just smile and nod. "Of course. Josephine, would you prefer if the two of us spoke alone first or all three of us?"

To the two men's surprise, Josephine wished to speak with Dr. Jones. However, it wasn't of her sudden confidence or comfort, but rather with the fact that topics might come up she didn't want Vito to know about. She had informed herself: as long as Vito was not her guardian, he was legally not allowed to look into her health files. She just had to make sure that Dr. Jones wouldn't document everything. Just. Josephine had no idea how she was going to do it.

Nervously, she followed the psychologist and looked one last time at Vito, who smiled encouragingly at her. "I'll be right out here. If you need me, all you have to do is call, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you." Josephine closed the door and looked around the room. It was similarly furnished as the anteroom, but to her relief there was a wall of windows from which she could see the city. Even though the room was smaller, it didn't feel as cramped. In the room there was space for a desk, a bookshelf, two armchairs that stood at a 135° angle to each other and countless plants.

Bradford leaned against his desk and watched her reaction. Was it a conscious behavior to look for escape routes from the room or did she do it unconsciously? She just discovered the photo of him and his husband. He noticed with interest how she seemed to relax a little. "This is my husband. He's a botanist, which is why all these plants are here. Would you like to sit down?"

Josephine shyly took a seat on the armchair that was closer to the door. Bradford sat down next to her, folded his hands and looked at her kindly. Josephine looked at his hands in surprise. She had expected him to have something to write with, but that wasn't the case. "May I ask you something?"