Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“That all sounds pretty textbook DID to me. Often a person creates a new personality or alter ego, if you will, to personify all the feelings they don’t want to feel or maybe they just can’t handle them. Of course, I can’t make an official diagnosis without actually talking to the patient.”
My father clears his throat. “As soon as we find him, you’ll be able to talk to him in person.”
I suck in a deep breath, relieved that my dad seems to want to help Ren and not kill him. I let that breath out slowly, getting ready for the biggest question of all.
“Is it treatable?” I ask hopefully.
“Yes,” Dr. Stone confirms, and I feel like a huge weight is lifted off my chest. My fear was that there’s nothing we can do about this. That Ren will forever be trapped by the demons that haunt him.
“DID can be treated with both medication and therapy,” she explains. “The most successful treatment is always to find the cause. DID is triggered by trauma and resolving that trauma is the best chance of treatment. It’s usually a lifelong process, and it highly depends on how willing the patient is.”
“He’ll be willing to work with you,” I state, not because I know it but because I have to believe it. I have to believe that Ren will try for me… for us.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Dr. Stone gives me a warm smile. “Do you have any other questions for now?”
“I can’t think of anything at the moment.”
“Dr. Stone, thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m sure you have to get back to your other patients.” My father gets up from his seat and walks around his desk. “I will be in touch.”
Dr. Stone mimics my dad; quickly gathering her stuff, she gets up from her seat to shake his hand.
I, on the other hand, don’t have it in me for any pleasantries at the moment. Too many thoughts running rampant in my mind. I stay seated and watch Dr. Stone exit my father’s office. I’m sure my dad paid her well above her fee to be here, so I don’t feel bad about being rude.
“Feeling a bit better now?” my father asked.
“Yes. My biggest fear was that there is nothing we can do to help him.”
“I hope you realize that if it was anyone else—”
“He would be dead right now,” I finish my father’s sentence. “Trust me, I’m well aware. Why do you think he is so scared to ask you for help? I told him we should call you, but he was worried you wouldn’t give him a chance to talk. He also believes you knew about New Haven.”
“I didn’t know.”
“If you would have known, would you have done something about it?”
“Probably not,” my father answers without hesitation or remorse. “I’m not a hero, Scar. You know I’m not a good guy.”
I knew this, of course, but it still hurts to hear it sometimes. I know there is good inside of my father by the way he treats my mother and me, but beyond that, he is still the head of the mafia, and they’re not the good guys.
“Am I interrupting?” my brother’s voice startles me.
“Back so soon, Son,” Dad greets Quinton.
“I figured you guys miss me so much when I’m not here.”
I roll my eyes at my brother. He’s always so full of himself. He’s lucky that I love him. I get up from my chair, about to give him a welcoming hug, when he gives me a weird look.
“I need to talk to Dad… alone.”
“About what?” I question. “Why can’t I be in here? Is this about Ren?”
Quinton sighs. “Yes, it’s about Ren. Which is exactly the reason you should leave.”
“When are you going to stop treating me like a child?” I look between my brother and my father accusingly. “You know I’m a grown-up, right? I deserve to be part of this.”
“Scar, if Q thinks it is better you don’t hear this then——”
Once again, I interrupt my dad. If I were anyone else, I would be regretting my insubordination by now. “Does Quinton have a microchip implanted under his skin?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know.
“It has to do with everything. You always treat me differently than Quinton just because he is a guy.”
“Everything I do is to keep you safe.”
“No, everything you do is to control me,” I yell. “Which is exactly the reason I didn’t try to contact you sooner.”
“That’s not true. I don’t control anything you do, but maybe I should.” My father’s dark eyes turn hard, and I know my outburst needs to come to an end, or I will be in real trouble.
I lower my voice. “How can you be so blind to this?” I look to my brother for any kind of reassurance that he is on my side. When Quinton averts his gaze to somewhere on the bookshelf behind me, I know I’ve lost him too.