CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"How are you doing, Kate?"

I stare at the lady in white with a blank face as I bring my blanket closer to me. Several times, different psychiatrists have tried coming in and getting me to talk. I remain silent through each one and eventually get up and leave.

"You know, the longer you stay silent, the longer you have to stay here. Don't you want to go back home?"

"No." I respond flatly, "I don't have a home. The place where I lived was not my home. A home is supposed to be nurturing and comforting. Where I lived killed me inside."

She writes something down in her notepad and I feel uncomfortable under her gaze. This is different than what Dr Jones did. While he made me feel comfortable and genuinely cared about how I am, she asks in a hurry, like there are more important things she has to do.

"Can you explain what was it about where you lived that made you unhappy?"

I notice that she changes the word home to where you lived and it puts me more at ease.

"Everything. My mom is unstable. She brought guys home every other day and she wasted most of our money on rum and vodka."

"Did you feel unsafe in her presence?"

I think back to all the times she hit me and how her boyfriends threw me against the wall when I didn't do what they wanted. At the very least, I still remember the insults and snide comments that she said when she thought I was not hearing.

"Yes." I choose not to elaborate, but she still carries on, this time with a harder question.

"You said that your mother brought men home often. Did those men assault you or touch you in any way before?"

Embarrassment creeps up to me and I stroke my arm with my other hand. My mind goes back to every guy that's been in my home and the most recent one. No, no one never touched me.

"I would never let it get that far."

The questions continue, each one getting harder than the last one. It seems like it's taking forever but as soon as she asks the final question, I know it's over.

"Do you have a support system? Any other friends or family? We can't release you until we know there's someone to watch you."

"Watch me? Why would anyone need to watch me?" It's then that it hits me and I visibly flinch as I start to understand.

She wants to make sure that I don't try and kill myself again.

"I have my two friends." I say silently, avoiding her gaze.

She nods and then starts to stand up.

"I'm going to recommend that you see a therapist at least twice a week for the first three months. Since all your physical problems have been treated, you are set to be released tomorrow."

After uttering some other words that I don't bother listening to, she leaves and I'm left alone in my blinding white room.

~*~

"Everything is set for tomorrow, Kit-Kat."

Noah hands me a piece of my favorite chocolate and I take it without hesitation and bite it.

"Did they find my mom?"

He sighs and gives me the same response to the same question that I've been asking everyday.

"No. Do you know any reason why she would have suddenly left?"

"She usually leaves when she doesn't have the money to pay the rent. It's not the first time, and I have to find a way to pay it before they evict us. She should've come back home now."

Ruffling his head, he responds, "Don't worry about her. The police will find her and you'll get the justice you deserve. I do have some good news through."

I look at him as a sign that he should continue. He hesitates for a moment, apparently deciding if it's a good idea to proceed but he eventually takes something out of his bag.

"My mom is a private investigator so I asked her to get information on your dad. It took a while to make sure we had the right person but we found out where he lives."

He hands me a beige file with the words Lucas Sterling written in black sharpie. I take the file with keen interest and carefully open it. Inside are a couple pictures of my dad secretly taken with an address.

"Don't worry, she didn't do anything illegal. She called her friend that lives in Seattle to help track him down and take some pictures. I was thinking that maybe we can go to Seattle in a couple of weeks so you can finally see him."

I stare at some of the pictures of him in Starbucks or while he's heading inside his house. There's even a picture of him with Toni.

"How long did it cost you to do this?" I ask in disbelief.

"Nothing. My mom had to pull a few favors and I have to do all the chores for the next month but when I told her about you, she was happy to help."

It's then that I start crying, again. This time it's not because I'm upset, I'm relieved. I clutch the file so tightly that my nails make a small indent on the folder.

"Are you okay?" He asks in worry.

"Yeah." I finally say, calming down a little bit. I wipe some of the tears from my eyes and take one last deep breath before breathing evenly.

"You kept your promise."

"Of course I did, Kit-Kat. I never break my promises."

No, you never do.