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"Middle name."

"Oh…it's Matteo," he says.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's my dad's name. Luca's is—"

"Anthony. I already know…he tells me things."

"I see."

"I'm just going to…read this now…I guess."

"Okay," he says. "I'll give you some space. Let me know if you need anything."

He grabs a book from the bedside table and, facing the opposite direction, opens it to the bookmarked page. I watch him only for a moment before turning my attention back to the open file on the computer, aware of the fact that I'm sitting in bed with someone who, hours ago, left me bleeding out on the bathroom floor.

And he's just reading. He's just lying there next to me.

I started seeing Dr. Miller right after my suicide attempt. Reading the recount of the event makes my palms sweat and my jaw tighten. The truth is I didn't think it through; I didn't plan it. I wasn't suicidal.

I was in a lot of pain, and no one wanted to help me. My family was angry and ashamed. The school administration wasmore concerned that the way I was bullied and exploited was a distraction for other students and upsetting for their families. They didn't want me there anymore.

Just like with the dog, no one cared about how I felt.

And there it is—his first highlight.

It is of my professional opinion that Teagan is not suicidal but reacted rashly to a specific incident and is not at risk for a second attempt.

I suck in a breath and go back to scrolling.

Teagan seems to be incapable of forming meaningful relationships with her peers. While this is a major concern for her family, it does not appear to concern Teagan.

Teagan's emotional response to both her kidnapping and the threat to her life seems insignificant. She claims she did not experience any violence or assault, nor was she aware of the murders until after the incident. It is unclear whether or not her recount contains omissions or if she's altered or repressed memories surrounding the event.

Teagan returned to public school last month. She reports that her peers have not been welcoming but seems to find this amusing rather than upsetting. My concern for Teagan to harm herself again remains low. I am more worried about her fascination with violence and violent acts and that this fascination may evolve into something more, and she will become a danger to those around her.

Teagan stopped attending her college courses. Though she recognizes her family's concerns for her, she shows little concern for a career and, overall, seems to have no interest in participating in or contributing to society in any meaningful way.

It was around three in the morning when I started reading, and it's around five now when I close the laptop.

"I'm done," I say, setting the laptop aside.

"Okay," he says.

"It was an accident," I tell him. "I wasn't suicidal, I was just…freaking out. And so, I got into the medicine cabinet, and I took those pills and…I was relieved when I woke up. I knew I'd never do it again."

"I know that," he says. "Ihave knownthat. That's not why I wanted you, Teagan. Do you get that now?"

"I don't know," I say honestly. "Maybe you thought you could change my mind."

He scoffs. "Teagan, I—"

"Can I tell you something else?"

"Sure," he says.

"There was nothing," I say. "Thereisnothing. There was no white light, no gentle creature or ancestors waiting to hold my hand and help me move on to something better. And maybe you don't believe that, and that's okay, but…if this is all there is and this is all I get, then why the fuck should I have to spend my life feeding into an economic system that does nothing for me—spending my life sleeping or sitting in an office, a prisoner to other people's expectations of what's normal? Why can't I just do what I want? I wasn't hurting anyone. I wasn't worried about ending up alone."