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“We can’t do this. Here,” he said, eyes never straying from the paperwork.
Kenna coiled her legs around those of the chair until an ache rang out in her ankles.
He didn’t say they couldn’t do this, period.
It couldn’t be done here, in his office, on campus—where she was a student and he an employee.
“I understand.”
An insistent knock came at the door. Dr. Merino braced his hands on the edge of his desk as if to stand but halted upon consulting the time. Until it came again and forced him on his feet, the sound thundering in the small space. If it was the next patient, they were considerably early.
“I’m expecting a patient in about 20 minutes. If you’d like to speak with me I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until walk-ins begin later today or schedule an appointment.”
“Please, it’s urgent.” A brunette wedged her way into the room. Her eyes were bloodshot and she wore a blue Phi Sigma Sigma hoodie.
“Okay, we’ll play by your rules this morning, Ms.?”
“Lacey Greene.”
“Well, come in and have a seat, Ms. Greene. Is it alright with you if a student observes our session?”
She said nothing, nodding as she sunk into the designated patient chair, tears already welling in her brown eyes. A plaid scarf covered her neck and the accessory struck Kenna as odd. It was commonplace to remove cold weather layers upon entering any of the buildings.
“How are you doing today?” Dr. Merino asked.
Perhaps the worst question to have used as an opener on a patient who was on the verge of crying.
Lacey peered out the window from where she sat. An hour seemed to have passed before she said anything. When she spoke, her voice was hollow. “Not great.”
“What exactly are you referring to when you use the phrase ‘not great?’”
Slowly, her eyes moved between the two of them and Kenna felt uneasy beneath the gaze of the girl she didn’t know.
“My boyfriend.”
“So, you’re experiencing relationship trouble? Because if that’s the case, I have a reputable couples therapist I can refer the two of you to. Off-campus, of course.”
“We don’t need couples therapy.” She laughed. It was ugly, broken, like she had forgotten how. “I came here to get help.”
“And what kind of help do you suppose you need?”
“I’m scared.” Her jaw trembled and she looked out the window once again, shifting the scarf slightly askew from its previous position. Kenna’s attention flocked to the exposed skin. Dark purple and red bruising. Swallowing, she whispered, “I’m scared that, one day, I won’t wake up.”
Kenna glanced at Dr. Merino and she noticed his eyes flicking to the contusions. “Are you familiar with IPV?”
Tears rolling down her cheeks, Lacey continued looking out the window. Kenna was well-acquainted with the view from that vantage point. The tops of the dead trees and the gray sky, waiting for a spring that it seemed would never come.
A landscape of desolation.
It pained her to think that within the town that had become her safe haven, people were being beaten. Raped. Killed. That, for some, Branch Spring was a hell from which they may never escape.
“Ms. Greene?”
Her head snapped in their direction and she adjusted her scarf. “What?”
“IPV. Intimate partner violence.”
Lacey flinched, horror glinting in her eyes, and Kenna made herself look away. It felt invasive sitting in on a session of such severity.
