Page 34 of Mine To Hunt

Her eyes search mine. “That video… the stalker… Ryan’s bullshit… That’s a lot for one person to carry.”

Her voice drops slightly. “And bottling it up led here.” She gestures lightly toward the IV line and hospital monitors. “To this bed.”

“What if we got ahead of it?” She asks quietly. “What if you talked it out with someone neutral?”

I slowly pull my hand away. Not roughly. But enough to create space between us.

The resistance rises quickly inside me, sharp and defensive. Because the idea of being that exposed, of laying every wound open to a stranger, terrifies me far more than the pills ever did.

“I said I’m fine, Mads.” My voice is calm, but firm. “Therapy means digging everything back up. My parents’ crash. Ryan’s abuse. Now this video.”

I shake my head. “Reliving all of it so some stranger can write notes in a file? No thanks.”

I fold my hands loosely in my lap. “I’ll journal or something.” A small shrug. “Or talk to you and Al. That’s enough.”

Maddie doesn’t move. She doesn’t argue right away either. She just watches me for a long moment. Then she leans forward slightly, her expression soft but stubborn.

“Journaling’s great.” She says gently. “But it’s not the same. You need tools we can’t give you.” She taps the side of the hospital bed lightly. “Coping strategies. Boundaries. Dr. Ashcroft is free. No insurance hoops. Yeah, it’s technically for research, but he helps people like us.” She holds my gaze steadily. “Under twenty-five. No pressure.”

A small hopeful smile touches her lips. “What if it’s just one session? A test drive. For me?”

The door opens again before I can argue, and Al bursts in, his hair disheveled like he ran from the car park, eyes wild with worry as he scans me head to toe.

"Ree! Holy shit, you're okay." He says, crossing the room in three strides to envelop me in a careful hug, his arms strong but trembling.

“Maddie texted.” Al says breathlessly as he steps inside. His hair is windblown, jacket half-zipped like he threw it on mid-run.

“I broke every speed limit getting here.” His eyes immediately find mine in the hospital bed. “What the hell happened?”

He gestures helplessly between Maddie and me. “One minute you’re crashing at her place, next I get a message saying you’re in the hospital?”

Maddie stands to give him space as he moves closer, her composure wavering despite the brave face she’s been wearing.

“It was after the Dean’s office.” She explains quietly. Her voice stays steady, but I can see the tears threatening again. “She locked herself in my bathroom.”

Al’s expression darkens immediately.

“She took my lorazepam.” Maddie continues. “Half the bottle. She’s stable now.” Maddie adds quickly. “The doctors handled it in time.”

She glances briefly toward the empty doorway. “But the doctor says therapy is mandatory before discharge. Some psychiatrist doing a free program.” She continues. “Part of a research project.”

Her eyes flick to me. “She’s fighting it.”

Al steps closer to the bed. Before I can react, his arms wrap around me in a tight hug that presses the hospital gown awkwardly against the IV line.

“Jesus, Ree.” He murmurs. “Don’t ever scare us like that again.”

He pulls back after a second and settles onto the edge of the bed on my other side. His hand slides over mine, warm and steady. The simple contact sends a fresh wave of tears to my eyes. His concern feels like sunlight after a storm.

“Therapy?” He says after a moment. “Honestly? Smart call.” There’s no judgment in his voice. Just quiet support.

“Ree, listen.” He leans back slightly, his tone softening. “I’ve been there. After my parents split last year.” He continues. “It felt like the world had its boot on my neck.”

He glances down at his hands briefly. “Everything I made, every sculpture, came out angry.”

A faint smile touches his mouth. “One session with a counselor flipped something for me. He didn’t fix everything.” Al says. “But he gave me words for the mess in my head.”

He shrugs lightly. “Not magic. But breathing room. You should at least try it.”