“Depression doesn’t only affect one person.” Dr. Wong chewed on the end of his pen. “You know that.”

She did. Every day, Lane was reminded of the effect her depression had on those around her. Mathias was gone. Noah didn’t have his daddy. Her mother wouldn’t discuss it. Her father used it to manipulate her. Her brother thought it was a joke. Darkness crept at the edge of her mind. The walls of Dr. Wong’s office felt like they were closing in on her. Wasn’t her session over yet? Her leg began to bounce as the urge to run set in.

“I’d like you to invite your parents to our next session.”

The oxygen was sucked right out of the room. Lane shrank back. Did she hear him correctly? “Yeah right. Are you serious?”

“I am. Sometimes those who don’t understand the illness don’t know how to show their support. I think it would be good for them to hear how you feel.”

The man was delusional. “My father is running his biggest campaign yet. He wouldn’t be caught dead coming into a psychiatrist’s office—no offense.”

“Lane, these appointments are for your benefit and part of the hospital’s condition of release.”

Condition of release? “I’m doing everything you’ve asked. I take my medicine regularly. Get exercise. Sunshine.” Never mind all the conditions her father had placed on her. Dr. Wong didn’t know that part. Everything she agreed to was to regain some normalcy to her life.

No.

Every deal Lane made was to keep Noah in her life.

“I’ve come to terms with my illness. I’ve accepted it and everything that comes with it.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning it’s my burden to bear.”

“We’re not meant to shoulder the burden of life on our own all the time. To be successful we need support from those who love us and believe in us.”

Lane wanted to argue with him. A therapy session with her parents wasn’t going to change their ignorance. They avoided the topic because they were ashamed. And she was left paying the consequences. Her moment of weakness—that cry for help—killed the only person who truly ever saw past her flaws. The alarm on Dr. Wong’s phone beeped, indicating their session was over. Finally.

“One month.” Dr. Wong stood. “This is for your health and for Noah.”

Lane scowled. He was using Noah as leverage. Like her father. She hurried out of the building, ignoring the receptionist who was calling after her to make a follow-up appointment, and didn’t see the man holding the tray of drinks until it was too late.

Liquid and ice splashed all over the ground.

“I’m sorry.” Lane tried scooping up a cup before the remainder of its contents emptied out, but it was useless. The day couldn’t get any worse.

“Lane?”