I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know how to start, only that she was right.
Outside, the day kept going. Cars passed. People moved on with their errands and their lives.
Eventually, I finished my coffee.
The problems were still there. The damage was still done. But something small settled in me anyway. Not hope exactly. More like resolve.
But I knew I had to try.
THE FIRST SESSION
Chapter 29
Ethan
The counseling center sat tucked behind the library, a small brick building with white trim and a porch that sagged a little under the weight of too many winters. If you didn’t know what it was, you’d think it was just another old house in Maplewood, quiet, unassuming, softened by climbing ivy and the smell of damp leaves.
I parked out front, hands tight on the steering wheel, and glanced back at Lily.
She sat small in the backseat, swinging her feet and clutching the stuffed fox Claire had given her, ears bent, fur worn. The morning light filtered through the window, catching the shimmer of her bangs and the tired bruise-purple shadows beneath her eyes. She hadn’t said much all morning. She didn’t need to. Her silence was loud enough. She didn’t want to be here but it was for her own good.
Dad opened her door gently. “C’mon, kiddo,” he said. “We’ll be right here.”
She slid her hand into his.
Inside, the waiting room was warm and smelled faintly of cinnamon tea. A basket of children’s toys sat under a low table beside a rack of pamphlets with words like grief, attachment, trauma, coping.
The kind of words you don’t want to admit belong to a six-year-old.
Dr. Nora Alvarez stepped out a moment later. She was taller than I expected, soft-voiced, warm brown eyes, hair streaked with silver pulled into a loose bun. Comforting in the way a hearth is comforting. Her whole presence was warm.
“Hi, Lily,” she said gently, crouching so they were eye-to-eye. “Do you want to come in and see my drawing table? I have the new markers we talked about.”
Lily nodded, still gripping my dad’s hand, then let go, only to follow Nora down the hall.
The door shut softly behind them.
The quiet that followed felt unnatural. My shoulders itched. My hands fidgeted against my jeans. Dad sat beside me, calm in a way I couldn’t imagine, his breath steady. His presence always filled a room.
Twenty minutes passed.
Thirty.
My nerves stretched tighter with each tick of the clock.
Then the session door opened again, and Dr. Alvarez poked her head out and looked straight at me. “Mr. Walker? Could I see you for a moment?”
Lily walked out ahead of her, heading straight to my father without hesitation. He scooped her up effortlessly. She pressed her face into his shoulder and clung. He patted her back in a slow, rhythmic pattern, the way he did with all of us when we were kids.
“Go on,” he murmured to me, not unkindly. “I’ve got her.”
I stood. My legs felt heavier than they should have.
Inside her office, the walls were lined with books and framed watercolors. A diffuser hummed quietly in the corner, releasing the scent of eucalyptus. A small couch sat opposite an armchair. Dr. Alvarez motioned for me to sit.
I did, cautiously.
She took the armchair across from me and folded her hands. “Thank you for stepping in,” she said softly. “I know this isn’t easy.”
