"Your boyfriend?" Dr. Dave spat the words out like they left a bitter taste in his mouth.
I let out a chuckle, loud and sharp, the kind that echoes in an empty room.
They obviously excluded that part, I thought.
Dr. Dave remained silent, his expression unreadable, as though waiting for me to say something else.
And maybe I should have stopped there, but I didn't. Instead, I leaned forward, pressing my hands into my lap.
"Since you're so interested in my relationship with my parents, I think you should know the full truth," I blurted out, the words rushing past my lips before I could stop them.
"There's a court investigation going on… over my boyfriend. The same boyfriend who just happens to be my parents' biological son. Technically, my brother."
The room felt colder after I said it.
Dr. Dave let out a slow, measured exhale. "Helen, this is… a lot. How do you feel about all of this?"
"Feel?" I repeated, laughing again, but this time, the sound was hollow. My eyes locked onto his.
"Am I supposed to feel anything? Isn't that why I'm here?"
Dr. Dave didn't flinch. He held my gaze, his voice steady, controlled. "You have a right to feel, Helen. In fact, I think you being here is a good step toward healing. Your parents may not have handled things in the best way, but trust me, you needed this."
My mind drifted. The words blurred together, and for a moment, I wasn't even in this office anymore. But then, I snapped back and said, almost too casually,
"Did you know that Dom is my boyfriend's cousin? I mean, the boyfriend who's also my brother?"
Dr. Dave's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't even processed the first bombshell, and now I had just handed him another.
"And we all go to the same school," I continued. "Same class."
I waited for him to speak, to say something, anything. But nothing came.
So I pushed further.
"If my parents say they're afraid they might have messed up my life, well, they really outdid themselves on this one."
Dr. Dave didn't argue. He only nodded slowly, scribbling something onto his notepad.
"Tell me about your boyfriend," he said finally, looking up at me.
I didn't respond.
He corrected himself, "I mean… your brother."
I shrugged.
"What's there to say? That I'm so in love with him? That I can't see myself with anyone else?"
Dr. Dave watched me carefully.
"And now, finding out he's your brother… what do you intend to do?"
"Do what?" My voice came out sharper than I intended.
"I intend to do nothing. He knows about all—" I cut myself off, realizing too late that I had said too much.
Dr. Dave's eyes narrowed slightly. "He knows what?"
I clenched my jaw, my lips pressing into a thin line. I wasn't going to answer that.
"I want to go home," I said instead, pushing back from the chair. I had already said too much.
Sitting here any longer, I might let everything spill. And if it got back to my parents…
Dr. Dave didn't stop me. He just leaned back slightly and said,
"Well, my office is always open, Helen. We can take this slow."
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my bag, clutching it tightly as I stood. As I walked to the door, I see Saint sitting outside, waiting for me.
"Ready to go home?" she asked.
I didn't answer. I walked straight past her and headed to the car.
I didn't say another word. I just plugged in my headset, letting Adele's voice drown out everything, my thoughts, my emotions, the weight of everything hanging over me.
The car ride home felt endless, Saint occasionally stealing glances at me, but I didn't acknowledge her.
I just stared out the window, watching the streetlights blur past, my hands clenched into fists on my lap.
When we finally pulled into the driveway, I hesitated before stepping out of the car.
The house loomed in front of me, too big, too empty, too full of ghosts.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Mom and Dad were in the living room, talking in low voices. They didn't stop when they saw me, which was strange, but what shocked me even more was what happened next.
"Helen, come sit."
Mom's voice was calm, too calm. It made me wary. I didn't move. I just stood there, my arms folded, scanning their faces for a trap.
"We had our first trial in court today… against the Bonfires," Mom began.
A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. As if I hadn't already known.
As if I hadn't been there—
watching, listening, feeling my entire life unravel while they acted like they were doing the right thing. But they didn't know that. They couldn't.
"The case was adjourned," she continued, still in that calm, measured tone. "But we'll be having our second trial soon."
I scoffed, unable to hold it in any longer.
"And why do I need to know all this?" My voice was sharper than I intended, but I didn't care.
Mom exhaled deeply, like she was bracing herself.
"We know you love Dan. And we know this is a lot for you. But you deserve to know what's going on."
I froze. For a split second, I saw something in her eyes—concern, maybe even guilt.
"Then why wasn't I in the courtroom with you?" I demanded.
Dad's voice, blunt and firm, cut through the air.
"We obviously don't want to make this any harder on you."
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
"Oh? And you just decided that for me?" I shot him a glare, my pulse quickening. "Have you ever stopped and wondered if I even wanted this?"
Mom stiffened. "What do you mean by 'this'?"
"I mean," I snapped, stepping forward, "Don't you think being in that courtroom would give me clarity?"
Dad chuckled dryly, shaking his head.
"What clarity?" His words dripped with disbelief.
I blinked at him, baffled. "Why do you all act like I don't have the right to feel? To reason? To—"
Dad cut me off.
"That's why you're in therapy, Helen. That's why you're talking to someone—to work through it."
I clenched my fists. "Why do y'all keep saying this,
I don't want therapy. I don't want to work through it'—"
My voice broke for a second, but I swallowed it down.
Dad scoffed under his breath.
"All you ever do is whine and whine."
"Eric!" Mom's voice cracked like a whip.
My head snapped toward Dad.
"What?" I spat, my vision blurring with rage.
He met my gaze, unflinching.
"You heard me. You act like we don't work our asses off for you."
"Eric," Mom snapped again, warning him, but he wasn't done.
"No, Love. She needs to hear the truth."
Something inside me snapped. Tears spilled over before I could stop them.
"I never asked for this," I whispered.
Dad's face hardened, but I didn't stop.
"All you do is chase a ghost, every damn chance you get—traveling, searching, digging up the past.
And while you were doing that, you abandoned me. Left me in the hands of a nanny. A nanny who let your real son run into the street."
Silence. A deep, suffocating silence.
They both stared at me, shock written all over their faces.
I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs, but I wasn't done. I turned to Dad, stepping closer, my voice shaking with fury.
"And you say I whine?" I scoffed bitterly. "You left me with no security, no parental guidance, nothing. You left me to figure out this world alone."
My breath came in sharp gasps, but I kept going.
"And do you want to know why?" I let out a trembling laugh, wiping my tears away furiously.
"Because I am not yours. And I never will be."
Dad's jaw clenched. Then he stood.
"Is that what you think, Young Lady?" His voice was low, dangerous.
I met his eyes, defiant.
"No. That's what I know."
A beat of silence.
Then—
"Go upstairs. Pack your things. Let's show you what real negligence looks like."
The words hit me like a punch.
Mom shot up from the couch.
"Eric, what the hell are you doing?"
Dad didn't even look at her. His eyes were locked onto mine, his fury burning into me. "She wants to see what I'm capable of? I'll show her."
Something inside me twisted. Maybe fear. Maybe relief.
I stormed up the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest. My hands were shaking, but I didn't care. I went upstairs and I grab my suitcase and starts throwing anything of mine inside.
Finally.
Finally, I was breaking free.
I heard Mom's voice from downstairs, sharp and panicked.
"Helen Edwards, you dare not do such a thing!"
I didn't stop. I didn't look back.
I slam the door with all my anger, my hands trembling as dizziness washes over me. The sharp bang echoes through the house, the hinges creaking in protest.