He shrugs and turns his attention back to his notebook, acting unimpressed with my newest idea. With his refusal of all medications and therapy, I’m willing to try anything. My hand is continually outstretched, but I get minimal participation in return. How do you help someone who thwarts you at every turn?

“Who do you see when you look at me, Lucas?” I clasp my hands on top of the table and wait for his answer. I’ve asked myself this exact question over a hundred times in the past week. Who does he think I am to him? Why does he think I come here? If I’m being honest, the answer is a tangling of vines and branches so deep it’s nearly impossible to locate the origin.

He continues to write in his tablet, but his strokes become more jerky and frantic. My question frustrates him. “You’re the girl who refused to let me go … give me peace.” His hand stops moving, and he narrows his eyes at me. “And now I’m stuck in this place … this hell.”

He leans forward and grabs my hands. My breath catches, and I tense in my chair. This is the first time in years that Lucas has voluntarily touched me.

“Please, Cece, you have to promise to never leave me. I can’t do this alone. Please … promise me.” His voice cracks as he grips my fingers and pulls me closer.

Promises will be the death of me; this is the one truth I know with complete and utter certainty.

I drop my head to the table and touch my forehead to our clasped hands.

“I promise,” I whisper.

When will this pain end?

“I promise,” I say with more force, clenching my teeth to will away the anger, the guilt, the resentment.

How dare I feel this way?

“I promise.” My tears wet our fingers, and Lucas lays his cheek on top of my head.

“I’m sorry I’ve made you sad. I shouldn’t have told you those things.”

As if his statement marks the end of our conversation, Lucas picks up the headphones and places them over his ears. He fiddles with the iPod, and a small smile plays upon his lips. I’ve given him a tiny slice of peace.

He picks up his markers and continues scribbling equations while humming softly to himself. I watch him, thinking back to the boy I once knew, the love we once had.

How did we get here?

My life is suffocated with more regret than I can handle. More blame hovers over me than I can ever apologize for. Audrey and her parents blame me for not saving Lucas soon enough. Lucas blames me for having saved him at all. And now, Cain blames me for not being able to move on with my life.

“How do I fix this, Lucas? How do I make sense of this mess I’ve created?”

I don’t expect an answer. He can’t hear a word I’m saying, but it relieves the tiniest amount of pressure off my chest to say the words out loud. I know my fifteen minutes are almost over, and Audrey will walk up any minute. Just for today, I can’t bring myself to care.

“Please, tell me,” I whisper as he closes his eyes and enjoys the music. “How do I make two plus two equal happily ever after … for everyone … even me?”

“Do What You Have To Do” by Sarah McLachlan

Present Day

I HURRY THROUGH the sliding doors and ring the bell sitting on the counter of the nurse’s station. A young woman sitting behind the desk tips her eyes to mine while popping her gum and playing around on her phone. She doesn’t say a word, but looks to me expectantly. I guess that’s my cue.

“Hi, my name is Celia Lemaire. I’m a therapist from New Horizons Outreach Center. Someone paged me about a patient in need of crisis counseling. Am I in the right place?”

The employee of the month tosses her phone on the counter with a clang and walks to the doorway that opens to the emergency room.

“Someone call for crisis management?” she bellows at the top of her lungs.

I hear a shuffling behind the door, and a blur of blond hair and blue scrubs waves me forward. I grab my belongings off the counter and get moving, passing the gum-popping princess along the way.

“Thank you for your help.” I turn around to meet her eyes, but she’s already back at the desk, phone in hand. “Alrighty then,” I mutter under my breath.

“Hey, I’m Alice. Thanks so much for coming out so late. The SANE nurse is examining the patient right now, so I can give you a little background before you meet her.”

She flips through the chart at lightning speed, and I’m thinking it’s probably the only way Alice runs—all cylinders, all the time. I’m still rubbing the sleep out of my red-rimmed eyes, so I need to wake up and keep up. I’ve recently taken over the majority of crisis management at the clinic, so late night calls are expected. I think Caroline needed a bit of a break, and I needed to fill my time. Idle time and wandering thoughts are my enemy as of late, since my mind always goes back to Cain. Extra work is my best option for keeping busy.

SANE stands for sexual assault nurse examiner, and they are specially trained nurses who are experts at collecting evidence for criminal cases, while taking into account the fragile nature of the victim. If this is indeed a sexual assault, I’d like to know as much about the situation as I can before I meet the patient.

“What can you tell me about what happened?”

Alice blows out a breath and shakes her head. “It’s a sad case. Truth be told, they’re all sad, but this one is gonna stick with me. Eighteen-year-old girl. She’s in her first year of college and practically oozes innocence. One look at her and you’ll see what I mean. She told us she was a virgin before tonight. This was also her very first real date. She thought they were meeting for a midnight picnic in the park. How romantic, right?” Alice bites her lip and looks to the ceiling with misty eyes. “No one heard a word, or if they did, they didn’t come to her rescue. He roughed her up good and left her there. She crawled out of the brush and stumbled to her car and drove over here. She walked in the front door with leaves and twigs stuck in her hair and blood caked to the insides of her legs. She won’t let us call any family.”

“I’ll talk with her, see if she’ll change her mind about that.” I flip through the chart and notice she gave no next of kin.

“I’d appreciate it,” Alice says as she walks away. “Let me check on the progress in there, and I’ll be right back.”

It doesn’t take long before a frustrated Alice returns. “She’s refusing the examination. The SANE nurse on call tonight is one of the best, but she’s not getting through to her. Do you think you could give it a shot?”

“Of course.”

As we approach the curtain partition, I steel myself for what I’m about to see. No matter how many of these calls I take, they never get easier. The look of a woman who has had the most intimate part of herself ripped away is gutting. The loss is palpable, a thick and suffocating cloud of sorrow and loss.

Alice draws back the utilitarian green curtain, and I follow closely behind her. She stops at the foot of the bed, and I hear a quiet sob release.

“Violet, I’d like you to meet Celia. She’s a therapist who works with the hospital from time to time. Just like Marlo, she’s here to help you.”

My eyes dart across the room and lock in on an equally shocked Marlo. I lose the surprised look and quickly train my face back to a smile, and so does she. Why didn’t Marlo ever mention she was a SANE nurse?

I turn my attention to Violet, and sit in a chair at her bedside. She’s curled up in the fetal position, eyes clenched shut, fingers gripping the sheet covering her shrinking body.