“It usually is a combination of things that are helpful,” Suhani says. “But the most important one is your willingness to try any of them at all. You did all this hard work to feel better. I’m so, so proud of you for that.”

And I will do everything to make sure you never feel that awful again, she silently promises herself.

“Thanks. It was hard. I think on some level, it’ll always be hard.” Natasha swings her legs over the side of the bed. “Is it weird that I was a little reluctant to start medication? Even though you and Dad do this for a living? I love therapy, I always have, but for some reason when the team first told me about the Prozac, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do it.”

“That’s not weird at all. A lot of people feel that way,” Suhani says. “It can be scary to take a medication. Were you worried it would affect your creativity?”

Natasha nods. “I thought it would mute me in some way, make it harder for me to do comedy. But hearing Alexis tell me how much it helped her gave me a push.”

“That makes sense,” Suhani says. “The chances are it’ll make you more in control of your emotions and, hopefully, in a better place to create. And remember how Dad and I would always say that if someone’s blood pressure or cholesterol was high, they’d get a pill for those? Same thing here. You’re taking something to ensure you can be the healthiest you possible.”

Even though Suhani’s sitting on this uncomfortable bed and staring at her sister in scrubs and nonslip socks, she still can’t fully accept that her little sister is a patient, like so many of the patients she’s seen and treated over the years. When they’re feeling better, Suhani’s heard a variety of reactions about how they’ve felt about the ward.

Many can’t wait to leave and say it was a useless experience for them. Some have been traumatized from the confinement. And then there are those few who say it was exactly what they needed. She never thought Natasha would be in that last category, but she’s grateful to be wrong.

“So, I do have some news for you,” Suhani says. “I spoke to Dr. Chan and she says you’re ready to leave tomorrow!”

Natasha’s face lights up. “Tomorrow? Really?”

“Really.” Suhani hugs her.

You made it, she thinks, wanting to break out into a cheering routine. You didn’t let this break you.

“So, what do you think is next? You know, after you leave?” Suhani asks.

“I’ll keep taking the meds. Stick with the therapy.”