Katia straightens her shoulders like she’s about to present a school project.
“Okay,” she mutters under her breath. “Radical honesty era.”
She answers the intake questions with surprising clarity.
When they ask what she wants out of treatment, she doesn’t hesitate.
“I want my life back,” she says simply.
After the paperwork is done, we walk her down a short hallway to a door that separatesintakefromresidents.
She turns to us before stepping through.
“Well,” she says, managing a crooked grin, “if I come out a yoga-loving, green-juice-drinking wellness influencer, you have to pretend you always believed in me.”
I laugh through tears. “Deal.”
I pull her into a tight hug.
“Call me,” I whisper into her hair. “Every chance you get.”
“I will,” she says. “You’re stuck with me.”
I pull back and cup her face. “Don’t disappear again.”
She shakes her head, serious now. “I won’t. I promise.”
Jake steps forward and offers his hand. “You’ve got this,” he says.
Katia looks at both of us. “I think I do, too,” she says quietly.
Then she turns, takes a steady breath, and walks through the door on her own.
***
On the way back, it’s just the two of us in the car.
A tiny part of me feels embarrassed that Jake has now seen the full extent of my family’s dysfunction.
Jake, on the other hand, seems to take it all in stride.
In fact, his thoughts move in a completelydifferent direction.
He glances at me. “You want to come to practice tomorrow?”
I blink. “What?”
“I don’t have anything after,” he says. “Just practice. You could watch. I’ll drive you home after and we could hang out?”
The offer surprises me.
“You want me there?” I ask carefully.
He shrugs one shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I?”
I don’t have an answer to that.
“I’d like that,” I say.
