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“Unless I deem you’re a danger to yourself or others.”
“I’m good. No desire to hurt myself or anyone else.” That you’ll hear about, anyway.
“Well, let’s just have a chat and we’ll see how you’re feeling, okay?” The doctor pulled up a chair and typed something into the computer. “Why did you try to kill yourself?”
“I didn’t,” she stressed. The doctor raised an eyebrow and Jesska took a deep breath. “I really didn’t. I just cut a little too deep.”
“And why do you cut yourself?”
“You’re the shrink.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “You tell me.”
“This won’t work if you don’t tell me how you feel,” he pointed out.
“My fiancé was murdered in front of me. Yesterday we were supposed to go to Paris. I feel a shit ton of guilt. I’d imagine that’s why I cut myself.”
The doctor smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Jesska sighed and suffered through the next hour of probing questions. Her one saving grace was that the doctor ordered her restraints removed and she was able to take care of her own personal business and feed herself when it was time for dinner. She checked herself out the next morning, against medical advice, and then headed home. After packing a bag, she left her parents’ home and checked into a hotel, using money from a trust fund she received from her grandmother. She had enough money to look for and set herself up in her own place. She vowed never to return to her parents’ home and didn’t even look back as she drove away.
