Debby sat on the edge of the sofa like she was afraid it might reject her.
Dr. Wayne's office was warm in the deliberate way therapy offices are warm. Soft lamps. Neutral walls. A ticking clock that seemed louder than it should have been.
"Why do you think you're here?" he asked gently.
She smiled.
"I think something in me is broken."
She said it lightly, almost joking, but her hands were clenched tight in her lap. She could not sleep. She could not be touched. She could not exist in a room without scanning it for danger.
She did not say his name.
Not yet.
"Start at the beginning," the doctor said.
The beginning was trust.
YOU ARE READING
Broken
Short StoryShe thought she knew who was safe. She was wrong. On the night everything fell apart, there were no strangers in the room. No masks. No warnings. Just someone she trusted. BROKEN is a dark psychological story about betrayal, silence, and the kind of...
