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“Worth trying, I guess. But it’s nothing like my usual blend back home. Or a good bottle of wine.” She leans over and pats my arm conspiratorially. “You’re coming straight from your counselor’s office, right?”

I narrow my eyes at her. “How do you know?”

“I can tell from the way you look.” She grimaces. “I had my meeting yesterday and it wasn’t pleasant. I locked myself up inside my room and had a whole bottle of wine. I’m surprised you didn’t get the same idea.”

“They serve wine here?”

She grins. “Of course they do. We’re not exactly alcoholics, are we?”

“Not yet.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that counselor of mine could turn me into one in no time.”

I laugh, feeling the tension slowly lifting off my shoulders. “God, I wish someone had told me about this place yesterday. I would have claimed the whole bar.”

“There goes my plan of keeping this little secret all to myself. I should learn to keep my big mouth shut.” She joins in my laughter. “I’ll get you some tea. Wait here. Don’t move from the spot.”

Before I can protest, Sylvie’s gone. I lean back in my seat and close my eyes for a few moments. When I open them again, I take in the surroundings. The walls are painted in yellow and green tones. Pictures of early settlements adorn the walls, and there’s a large grandfather clock in the far corner, its unnerving noise carrying over.

Sylvie takes her sweet time, during which more patients arrive. I scan their faces, but there’s no sight of Kade.

I realize I haven’t seen him since yesterday. A wave of disappointment washes over me, even though I don’t understand my reaction one bit. I close my eyes again, waiting for Bruce’s familiar face to flash before me. Instead, I find myself smiling as I remember my conversation with Kade.

He’s so different from Bruce.

In some strange way, he reminds me of my little brother and his inability to stay serious, which can be both irritating and endearing.

“I bet they’re not rated PG-13.” Sylvie’s voice draws me back.

I open my eyes in time to see her sliding back into her seat. On the table are two cups of tea and a bowl of fries.

“What?”

“Your thoughts,” she clarifies and pushes a cup of tea toward me. “You looked all flushed and miles away.”

Judging from the color and strong smell, it’s an herbal blend. I wrap my hands around the cup, warming my hands because it’s too hot to drink. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to. You’re my only friend here, and there will come a day when I’ll hit rock bottom and need you.” She pushes the bowl with fries toward me. “Try them.”

“At ten in the morning?”

She shrugs and pops a fry into her mouth. “They’re one of a kind.” She motions to the bowl again. Hesitantly, I grab one and take a ginger bite, expecting my nausea to hit me with full force. The flavor is strong, oily with the slightest hint of chili. I swallow and realize I feel better.

“You’re right. They’re good,” I say.

“They’re the best,” Sylvie agrees. “They probably serve good food so we don’t want to leave.”

“Really?” I regard her, unsure whether she’s joking or being serious.

Sylvie shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not that bad here, you’ll see. Not when they serve fries like these.

I cock my head. “That little statement might apply to you because you’re here on your own free will. Me on the other hand—” I grimace “—not so much. I bet your counselor serves you coffee—the delicious, creamy kind.”

“He actually does,” she says slowly. “Why? How’s yours?”

“My counselor went right for the jugular without even thinking about offering me anything first. No sign of a coffee whatsoever.” I stir sugar into the tea and take a tentative sip, realizing it’s still too hot to drink without burning my tongue. “This new therapy plan sucks. They should set up a vote whether we want to work together with a guy, because as far as I’m aware, I should still be allowed to voice my opinion.”

“I don’t think this place works that way.”