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The oak bowed her branches.

He will come, the wind seemed to whisper.

Eighteen

Nikolai

IhadanappointmentwithDr Schmidt to go over my test results a couple of days after the game.

“Mr Lorenz, good to see you.” He held out his furry hand. I shook it.

“Hi, Dr Schmidt.”

“Please.” I took the visitor’s chair across the desk from him, feeling like a pupil in the headmaster’s office rather than a functioning adult.

You didn’t do anything wrong. Chill the fuck out!

I’d always felt like that, and it drove me nuts. I always imagined I was one meeting away from being called out for being a clever imposter who’d tricked his way into wherever he was.

And after over twenty years of me feeling wrong they finally tell me I have a weird brain. Great! Thanks!

Over the past couple of days doubt had crept in. How could they be so sure it was ADHD? Maybe I just sucked.

“So, my colleague already informed you about your diagnosis.”

You have a vivid imagination, and you’re an excellent trickster.

“Yeah…” I hedged.

“The results were so clear we might call this a high score, not that I would have expected anything less from you after what you told me about your career progression.” Schmidt winked at me and righted his round spectacles.

“Yeah, your colleague told me. I still haven’t wrapped my head around it.”

“It will take a while for you to come to terms with it. We often observe similar struggles in late-diagnosed adults.”

“Struggles? What struggles?” I snapped sarcastically. “You mean the fact that my brain is fucked up? Nothing changed and my life just fucking broke! I’m still training every day, and when I have a day off, I still head to the gym. Hell, I even started doing yoga!”

“I understand that you’re upset, Mr Lorenz.”

“I’m not upset!” I barked, breathing like a bull. “I’m—” But I didn’t even knowwhatI felt. My insides were in turmoil, my emotions an unidentifiable mass in my chest.

“It’s okay. You have every right to be angry or confused.”

Both. I was both. And sad. And scared.

Shit, I hadn’t even realised I’d jumped to my feet with my fists balled. Then the fog lifted, and I flopped back into the chair. Hiding my face in my hands, I tried to calm myself with the breathing technique Søren had taught us.

Schmidt didn’t speak until I eventually looked up. An understanding smile sat on his lips, exposing his sharp canines.

“Unfortunately, I can’t tell you what changed. We’ve observed that adults sometimes lose their ability to mask. You told me about your dating history. It might have been that or something else. A change in diet or exercise routine, a move, or simply the moment when you couldn’t hide that part of you anymore.”

“So what do I do now?”

My neuropsychiatrist spent the next ten minutes explaining my “brain differences”, as he called it, then gave me my options.

“The medication we can offer you isn’t a cure all, but it can help you cope better. We recommend ongoing therapy, and keep those forest walks up. They seem to do you good. Maybe find a hobby…”

Don’t blush, Nik!