He nodded slowly, softening again. “Alright, then prove it to yourself and not just to me.”
Dr. Loomis patted my shoulder, his hand lingering a second longer than comfort allowed.
“You have a chance most people don’t get, Haelyn… don’t waste it.”
I smiled faintly, but my eyes betrayed the exhaustion underneath.
“I won’t. I’m just ready to start over.”
“Starting over isn’t the same as forgetting. You’ll learn that out there.”
“You really think I can do that? Livenormal?”
He chuckled softly. “I think you can try; that’s all any of us can do.”
I didn’t reply.
Outside, the air was crisp, and the sky held that soft, overcast gray that only fall could pull off. Leaves crunched beneath my shoes as I stepped out of the facility, the faded orange and burnt-red trees lining the walk like quiet witnesses to my release.
“So, what now? You’re gonna drop me at a bus stop with a pat on the head?” I chuckled lightly.
Dr. Loomis reached inside his pocket and handed me a set of keys.
“There’s an apartment waiting for you. It’s not in your name, but it’s yours for the next six months.”
I blinked erratically. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Consider it a transition gift. The apartment’s in the city, near Canal. It’s a quiet neighborhood, near the bus line, fully furnished. You’ll find a prepaid card for groceries and basic expenses… all courtesy of me. You’ll get money loaded to it each month…grantedthat you stay out of trouble and attend your regularly therapy sessions and psychiatric evaluations. Haelyn, you’re not technically my responsibility anymore,” he said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat, “but I still feel like you are… in a sense.”
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I wanted to. So please don’t make me regret sticking my neck out for you.”
I forced a small smile. “I won’t.”
He glanced down at his phone. “Well… your Uber just arrived.”
I frowned slightly. “I have an apartment, but no car?”
“Baby steps,” he smirked.
I held up my hands. “I’m just kidding. I’m grateful for the little things.”
He nodded. “I don’t predict you’ll be going too many places, anyway. Most of what you’ll need is within walking distance of the apartment. But if you do need to get somewhere farther, there’s money on the card. Use it wiselyandkeep the receipts. If you run out before the month is out, just give me a call. There’s also a center downtown that works with reintegration cases like yours. They’re hiring for part-time… stable hours. Ithink it could help you find your footing before you branch out on your own. But we’ll talk more about that next week during your check-in.”
I nodded, twirling the key around my finger. “Sounds good.”
“Well, I’ll let you go. The driver will take you to the apartment. And remember, Haelyn, don’t just survive out there, try to live,” he concluded.
I smiled faintly. “I’ll try. Thanks again for everything, Dr. Loomis.”
He offered a short nod; the kind people give when they’re not sure if they’re helping or making a mistake, but they do it anyway.
I walked up to the car, nerves flickering low in my stomach.
The driver leaned his head out the window. “Haelyn?”
“Yup,” I confirmed, then opened the door and slipped into the backseat.
