Page 25

“Your mother called me with some concerns—”

My eyes fly to her, and she cowers. “You did what?”

She shrugs and shakes her head, muttering, “I-I didn’t know what to do. I found your notebook—”

“You had no right!”

“After looking at what was in it, your mother did the right thing by calling me.”

My eyes widen. “How could you? That’s private!”

“Harlow, please.”

“You have no right to invade my privacy like that, Mom!”

“I was worried when you stormed out last night.” Her justification is weak, and she knows it. “I wasn’t snooping to be mean, but I’m your mother. It’s my job to protect you.”

“Protect me from what? From getting my feelings out?” I glare at her. “That notebook is what protects me—not you!”

“I understand your anger, but your mom is only looking out for your wellbeing, and so am I,” Dr. Amberg says, taking her side. “The two of us spoke last night, and she told me about what happened yesterday and what you saw. This situation would be difficult for anyone to handle, but—”

“This is bullshit!”

“Harlow,” my mom scolds harshly.

“It is! You cheat on Dad, and suddenly, it’s all aboutme? You’re only spinning this to get the attention off you!”

“Look at her wrist,” she blurts out while stalking over to me in quick strides. “Look at what she’s done.”

I stand in place, thankful that I scrubbed the ink away, and allow her to yank up my sleeve, exposing nothing.

“Why don’t you give Harlow and me a moment?” he suggests, and she drops my arm before leaving the room. “Come on, take a seat.”

“This is what I’ve been trying to tell you,” I say as I walk over to the bar, but I don’t sit. “She’s always doing this. Taking the smallest things and blowing them up into something they aren’t. That notebook wasyouridea.”

“What you filled the pages with alarmed her.”

“What I fill the pages with is no one’s business but my own.”

“I understand you feel as if your privacy has been violated, but she isn’t the enemy,” he tells me. “We’re all on your side.”

“Areyoualarmed by the notebook?”

It takes a moment before he gives a subtle nod. “Getting our feelings out can be therapeutic, but some of these thoughts you are having need to be addressed.” He shifts in his seat and then asks, “Can you tell me what she saw on your wrist that scared her?”

“I have no idea what she’s talking about.” If I tell him, it will only heighten his concern.

His brow lifts in skepticism. Before he can say anything else, a loud bump from upstairs catches my attention.

“What is she doing up there?” I ask, and Dr. Amberg immediately stands, but I’m already out of the kitchen and running up to my room. “What are you doing?”

She has a duffle bag on my bed, and it’s already filled with my clothes as she looks at me in alarm.

It’s in this moment I know exactly what’s going on. Adrenaline combusts, and I turn on my heel, ready to run, only to find Dr. Amberg standing in my doorway. He grabs my arms, preventing me from escaping, and I begin to fight against his hold. “Let me go! You can’t do this!”

On the other side of the room, my mother cries as I flail, trying to rip myself away from this ambush, but they have me. Dr. Amberg gets his arms around me, and I continue to cry out, repeating, “You can’t do this!” over and over while my mother scurries around my room to pack the rest of my things.

“Harlow,” my doctor says in a soothing tone that doesn’t soothe at all. “I need you to come with me out to the van, but if you can’t calm down, I’m going to have to bring in Marcus who’s waiting outside.”