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But I am not going to try to take his freedom away from him.
Not when I have no idea what kind of long-term ramifications it’s going to have.
Brian means too much to me. I can’t have him hate me for the rest of his life.
“He deserves a chance to fight and win against his own demons, Doc,” I add after a brief pause. “And I want to give him the chance to do that. Without me hovering or controlling every aspect of his life.”
Otherwise, he is never going to learn to survive on his own.
After a brief pause, I move away from the desk and move towards the door. I pause there with a hand on the knob and glance over my shoulders.
Doctor Masterson is sitting behind her desk with Brian’s file open. She is skimming through it, a furrow between her brows.
When she glances up at me, I swallow back the rest of my retort.
Then I yank on the knob and pull on the door with a little more force than necessary.
I make it back to one of my offices, somewhere deep in the bowels of the main cabin. I mutter to myself and wonder if I made a mistake bringing Brian here.
Or hiring Doctor Masterson in the first place.
Of course, she wants to go for the drastic option.
As I sit down behind my desk and shuffle some papers around, I realize that there’s no way for me to know if it’ll work.
Not for certain at least.
Sighing, I press two fingers to my temples and rub in slow, circular motions. Then I pick up my phone and place a few phone calls, including one to Maureen.
I ask her to make sure she keep tabs on Brian the whole time.
Hours later, my entire body is aching, and I’ve got a crick in my neck.
Slowly, I push my chair back and stretch my arms over my head. Then I bend down to touch the tips of my toes and shake off some of the numbness.
When I draw myself back up to my full height, I realize the sun is dipping below the horizon, lighting up the world in hues of pink and purple.
With a slight shake of my head, I step out of the office and lock the door. On my way to my room, I can’t stop thinking about Brian, or the best way to help him.
In my room, I shower, change into a clean pair of clothes. I order my meal and eat it while peering through the balcony doors.
A steady stream of guests are headed into the forest in the direction of the clearing where the nightly campfire is being held.
I spot a familiar head of dark hair, and I swallow, trying to ignore the nervous fluttering in the center of my chest. After brushing off the crumbs, I wash my hands and hurry out.
Several guests call out to me as I race past them and in the direction of the clearing.
It is half hidden in the shadows, with only the red and orange flames to light up the path.
Underneath the silver, crescent-shaped moon, I spot Danielle sitting on a log, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers, and sipping on her drink.
She is glancing around at the people gathered around, a thoughtful expression on her face.
When her gaze meets mine, I forget what I mean to say next.
Suddenly, I can’t even remember why I’m so anxious.
My feet move toward her before I know what I’m doing.
