reticent

66

• AMALIA •

I wave goodbye to Archer. He waves back, and I turn into the house. Only when the door is closed behind me do I hear his car back out of the driveway.

"I'm back!" I exclaim.

The living room door opens and my dad walks out. He smiles at me, "come in the living room, baby."

"Why?"

"I wanna talk to you. Come on." He says.

     I sigh and follow him into the living room, my eyebrows knitting together when I see all my brothers there, too.

     "Did someone die, or something?" I ask.

     "No." My dad dismisses quickly. "Go sit down."

I sit on the armchair, next to no one, and glance around. Elijah smiles at me, but I can't bring myself to smile back.

"What is this?" I ask.

     "I wanna tell you something." My dad explains, sitting down across from me. Again, I look around at everyone in the room. They're all quiet, and no one besides Elijah can seem to really look at me.

     "What?"

     "I booked you a therapy appointment for next week." He tells me.

     I frown yet scowl at the same time, confusion swirling inside of me. "I told you I didn't wanna do that." I respond, my voice turning quiet and shaky.

     He wants me to talk to a stranger about one of the most traumatic things that's happened to me? What will that accomplish? It'll just force me to think about it more, to describe each and every little detail until my mind is clogged with it all.

     "I know, sweetheart, but I think it's what's best for you." He says calmly.

     I shake my head. "No it's not. I don't want to."

     He sighs and opens his mouth, but it's Mason who speaks first. "It might help, Amalia. Just give it a go."

     I snap my head toward him. "Why are any of you even here? It's none of your business."

     "Amalia," my father says, a low sense of warning lining his tone, "we just want to help you."

"I don't want to." I repeat.

"It wouldn't hurt to try, though." Grayson attempts.

"Except it would. I don't wanna sit in some room with somebody I don't even know for an hour so they can what? Prescribe me with some medication that's not gonna do anything?" I ask loudly.

"Amalia," my dad says my name again, "that's not what it would be like. The woman is a nice person, and she said—"

     "I don't care."

     His eyebrows raise a little in surprise. A low whistle slips from Xander's lips, then a grin breaks out on his face. Our father glances at him, then looks at me. "Just trust me, baby, this—"

     "How am I meant to trust you when you don't even tell me anything?" I respond.

     "What?" My dad questions, eyes peering a little in puzzlement. "What don't I tell you?"

     "Let me think," I say sarcastically, "maybe how everyone in this stupid family is going to some mafia gala, except me?"

     He closes his eyes for a moment, as though he's trying to compose himself. "Lia, it's too dangerous for you to go."