The Thief Who Saved My Life

Chapter 12

"Not much," I say when after several minutes she doesn't say anything.

She stays quiet.

My eyes move to the clock on the wall, ticking with every second. It's quiet enough in the room that the ticking fills it in the absence of conversation.

I'm good at the quiet game too. My house is a shroud of silence most of the time. I'm not a person who feels the need to fill every silence. If her plan was to stare at me quietly until I spill my guts, she's going to be disappointed.

But as the hour winds down, my curiosity gets the best of me.

"What?" Because I know she wants to say something.

"You said your father forced you here?"

I nodded. "He's not a man you just say no to."

"When we first met you seemed convinced your father didn't care for you. Yet requiring you seek counseling seems like a sign of affection."

I never said my father didn't care for me, I know better than that. He doesn't like me very much. He doesn't want me very much. He really doesn't know how to raise a daughter, but he cares, I'm sure. That said, she's wrong. There are a thousand reasons aside affection that would force my father to make this demand. He's worried I'll embarrass him. He wants to save face or gain sympathy. Or most likely, he wants to know exactly what's going on in my head. What would make me consider embarrassing him like that. Et cetera, et cetera.

I quirk and eyebrow at her.

"How much is my father paying you for reports of all of this?"

I know the man well enough to know that he wants reports of these appointments. I watch her lips curve into a smile but still expect her to deny it. If I had to guess, he's added an extra five hundred on top of her hourly rate. I bet he's offered nice bonus checks for the really juicy information she might manage to squeeze out of me.

"Evie," she starts. "I believe in what I do. Every part of it and that includes patient confidentiality. I do well enough on my own that I have no need for whatever bonus your father may have attempted to offer. Now there are certain things I must report - If I feel you are a danger to yourself or others as well as abuse of a minor."

She seems sincere but I honestly can't tell.

"Everyone has a price."

"Money is not everything to everyone." She smiles warmly at me. "One day I hope you'll believe that. For now, our time is up, but I do have an assignment for you." Of course there's a catch. She holds the notebook that rested in her lap for the entirety of our session out to me. I stare at the thing like it's on fire but that doesn't stop her, she patiently holds it out until I wrap my fingers around it. "I'd like you to write."

"About what?"

"Anything you'd like," she says as if it's that simple. "It can be a sentence or a list or ten pages, but whatever is it, I'd like to read it on Wednesday at the start of our appointment. I think it will help open the doors to better communication. I will see you next week Evie. I look forward to actually talking with you then."

Wished I could say the same. I liked her, I did. But if the point of this was to spill my deep dark secrets... well, it wasn't going to happen.

I got home in time for an awkward family dinner with my father that I would have rather missed, to be honest. When he was home, he insisted on eating together at the dining table. Usually I ate in the living room or at the kitchen table because the dining room was sooo formal. The table was a giant antique that I was certain rivaled Arthur's round table of knights in age and size. My father always sat at one end while I took the seat to his left. Nearly a dozen places remained empty at every meal.