Page 108 of The Bratva King

Pasha’s right. Gabby is good for me.

I just don’t know if that’s a good thing or the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.

25

Gabby

I hold Luke’s hand as we walk into the fancy therapy center. I feel his anxiety. He insisted on bringing the blanket and Steggy—the stegosaurus. He’s got his dinosaur backpack on, stuffed with more of the dinosaurs Nikolai bought him.

He was quiet on the drive over. I’ve tried to explain what we’re doing, but how do I explain therapy? So, he thinks this is school.

School, he knows.

The center is beautiful. Clean. Bright, but not too bright. The lighting is soft. The colors are muted blues and greens. There’s a small play area in the corner with sensory toys—textured balls, weighted blankets, and fidget spinners arranged neatly in bins.

Everything about this place screams expensive.

I try not to think about what this appointment costs. Nikolai made the call. Got us in within a week. Places like this have waitlists that stretch months, sometimes years.

I sign in and take a seat with Luke sitting wide-eyed beside me.

“Gabby Collins?”

I look up. A woman stands in the doorway, clipboard in hand, wearing a friendly smile.

“That’s me.” I stand, helping Luke gather his things.

“I’m Rebecca. I’ll be working with Luke today.” She bends to his level. “Hi, Luke. I heard you like dinosaurs.”

Luke looks at her briefly, then at me.

“He does,” I say. “They’re his favorite.”

“Mine, too,” Rebecca says. “Do you have a favorite dinosaur?”

Luke hesitates.

When he doesn’t answer, she smiles. “Why don’t we go back to my office first? I’d like to talk with you about what we’re going to do today, and then Luke and I will spend some time together.”

I nod and follow her down the hall, Luke’s hand in mine.

We sit down, and she asks a few questions. Mostly, she wants to know about his struggles. Since it’s his first visit, they’ll do an evaluation.

“And school?” she asks.

“We’re still deciding,” I say.

We go through a few more questions about Luke and what she’ll need to know to help him.

“Okay.” She sets down her clipboard. “Here’s what I’m thinking. Today is going to be an assessment. I’m going to spend about an hour with Luke. We’ll do some activities. Some play-based, some structured. I want to see how he responds to different stimuli. How he handles transitions. How he communicates when he’s frustrated.”

“Will I be there?”

“For the first few minutes, yes. Then I’ll ask you to step out. Sometimes kids behave differently when their parents are in the room. I want to see how he does on his own.”

Panic flickers through me. “He doesn’t do well when I’m not there.”

“I understand. But I promise, if he gets too overwhelmed, I’ll bring you right back in.”