Page 33 of Mine To Hunt

“I’m fine.” I insist quickly. My voice comes out firmer than I feel. “Really.”

I shift slightly against the pillows. “It was just a bad night. School stress. Personal stuff. I’ll manage.”

“Therapy’s not really for me.” I force a small, determined smile. “I’d rather just move on.”

Dr. Thorne doesn't push right away, instead turning to Maddie with a subtle nod, like they're in quiet conspiracy.

“Miss Montclair, a word?” Dr. Thorne rises from the stool, smoothing the front of his coat. “Privately, if you don’t mind.”

He gestures politely toward the far corner of the room. Maddie hesitates. Her fingers tighten around mine for a moment before she gives my hand a reassuring squeeze and stands.

“I’ll be right back.” She murmurs.

She follows him a few steps away, near the window where the pale afternoon light filters through the blinds. I try not to stare, but my ears strain automatically, searching for pieces of the conversation.

Their voices stay low. Urgent.

“She’s in denial.” Dr. Thorne says quietly, the words barely carrying across the room. “It’s a classic response. Minimizing the situation to cope.”

I feel my jaw tighten.

“But with the overdose now documented,” he continues, “we can’t release her without some kind of follow-up plan.”

He glances briefly in my direction before lowering his voice again.

“I have a colleague.” He says. “Dr. Nathaniel Ashcroft. Psychiatrist.”

Maddie nods slowly.

“He’s running pro bono sessions for patients under twenty-five.” Dr. Thorne explains. “It’s part of a research project on youth mental health after trauma.”

He folds his arms lightly. “He provides counseling at no cost in exchange for anonymized data for the study.”

“No pressure.” He adds gently. “But it could be a softer entry point. Confidential. Flexible. You might try suggesting it to her.”

Maddie glances back toward the bed. Our eyes meet for half a second before she quickly looks away. Her face is tight with worry.

“Yeah.” She says quietly. “I’ll try.” She nods once. “Thank you, Doctor. For everything.”

Dr. Thorne pats her shoulder lightly before walking back toward the bed. By the time he reaches me again, the calm professional smile has returned to his face.

“Iris.” He says warmly.

“Think about what we discussed.”

His tone is gentle but firm. “No rush today. But there are options available to you. Rest for now. A nurse will be in soon to check your vitals.”

His hand pauses briefly on the door handle. “And if you need anything, just press the call button.”

The door closes softly behind him. The room suddenly feels heavier. Like the air is filled with expectations no one has said out loud.

Maddie returns a moment later and sits carefully on the edge of the hospital bed. Her hand finds mine again immediately, as if she’s afraid I might vanish if she lets go.

“Ree’s tough, huh?” She says softly.

Her voice carries a faint, sad smile. I recognize the words instantly. My own from earlier.

“But Dr. Thorne’s right.” She continues gently. “Therapy isn’t admitting defeat. It’s arming up.”