“Yes.”
“What if there’s nothing else to it?” She looks up, smiling. She has a warm, pretty smile. Motherly in a way. “What if this stranger just caught wind of what was going to happen and decided to enact his own brand of vigilante justice?”
I perk up on the sofa, pressing myself up by my elbows to look at her. “I haven’t thought about it that way.”
Her question is supposed to make me feel better; to give me hope that there’s something good in the bad.
I’m glad I got out unharmed, but we live in a world with laws and rules. No one person should feel confident enough in their own sense of justice to take matters into his own hands. The five men who died should have had their day in court, facing justice the way everyone else does.
Right?
“I used to be naïve,” I shift topics. Partly because I’ve barked up this tree many times before, but mostly because I’m afraid she might convince me otherwise, if I’m not careful. “I used to believe I could be like my mother. That I could conquer men with my keen mind and beautiful body, the way she does.”
I groan as I journey down memory lane. “The whole reason I went there was to find a way to get into Lux-Peak. Who better to give it to me than the heir, right?” I shrug, collapsing back into the sofa. “I was blinded by the ambition to take control of my life, so I couldn’t see the threat that was right in front of me.”
I’ve learned a lot about myself over the years. My goal of being successful and standing on my own two feet remains, but I now know that it will never come from being like Mom. I don’t have her cunning intuition when it comes to men. Or people in general, I guess.
“It’s not naivety that led you down that path, Lilith. Children are a mirror of their parents,” she says. “Believing that you could do as she does isn’t a reason to think this is your fault. It’s why keeping your head held high is so important. Use the horrors of the past as fuel for a better tomorrow.”
“How do you do that?” I sigh. “I’ve done everything you’ve suggested. I keep a journal; I get more sun and exercise. I even got a boxing bag to get my frustration out. No matter what I try, I can’t get him out of my head.”
That last part wasn’t meant to come out. I switched subjects with the specific intention of not talking about him, and yet, the man in the mask has managed to surface yet again.
“It takes time. Some wounds heal in weeks, others take years. Everyone’s different. As long as you’re focusing on today, tomorrow will reveal the fruits of your labor.” She takes a sip of water from a glass next to her.
I do the same with the plastic bottle she set on the table for me before I got here.
“May I suggest something?” she asks, once we’re sufficiently hydrated.
“Anything.” My desperation is showing a little too much today.
“Instead of focusing on the worst, why don’t you tell me about what’s gotten better for you since that night?” She sets the clipboard on her lap and leans back in her chair to create the impression that we’re just chatting.
I have to think about it for way too long before something springs to mind.
“I love my job. I get to spend my days surrounded by a lot of different animals,” I say. We’ve spoken about it before, but working at The Barkhouse is one of the best things in my life. “And I’ll have my degree by winter.”
Animal studies and biological conservation.
Humanity is a lost cause. We overpopulate, pollute and kill our Earth with disregard for future generations. Ourhabits are unsustainable and will someday lead to our demise. But nature will endure, and I want to play a part in seeing it prosper and thrive, when that time comes.
She flips the pad shut. “See? There is more to life than one bad day.”
I smile, but don’t say anything. She’s not wrong, but she isn’t right either. One bad day is enough to define the rest of your life, whether there’s more to it or not.
“May I ask you a personal question?”
I face her. “Sure.”
“Is your mother still going through with the wedding?” I regret giving her permission to ask.
“Unfortunately.” I swallow hard, nearly choking on the bitter pill it is to admit that.
Dr. Rice chuckles to break the tension. “Have you had a chance to finally meet the groom-to-be?”
“Funny you should ask.” Not really. I’ve expressed my dissatisfaction to Dr. Rice before; that we’re only days out from the wedding and haven’t met the guy. That’s probably why she’s asking about it now. “We’re having dinner with him tonight. I am not sure I like that. Stringing some guy along is one thing, but going through with a marriage to do it?”
“Perhaps your mother has found real love this time.” Dr. Rice is doing everything in her power to flip my viewpoint, and I try to hear her as well as I can.
