Oblivion

Chapter Seventeen - Stories to tell

Third Person

"I need help." Vito exchanged a quick look with Domenico, but instead of answering he smiled slightly at Josephine. She exhaled before she started walking back and forth. "I mean professional help. I know I can talk to you anytime, but-"

She didn't finish the sentence because she didn't know how to say what she wanted to say without seeming like she didn't trust Vito. "You won't have to pay anything! As soon as you get the power of attorney over me, you can access my inheritance and use it to pay the therapist," she quickly assured. Shit, she actually wanted to give the reasons why she would benefit from it first.

"Wasn't the money meant for college?" Vito asked, frowning. He didn't know how much her inheritance was, but at his last will, his father stated how much they would inherit if they attended college, and the money couldn't be accessed for any other reason. But even if that were the case with her too, he would pay the therapist either way.

"I don't know," Josephine admitted honestly, angry with herself for how she had approached the conversation. The money had been the sticking point because she wasn't sure if Vito would even have access to it. "But I'm still a long way from finishing high school, let alone what comes after that. And it won't help me pay for college if I'm not alive by then."

Josephine regretted her last sentence as soon as she said it. She stopped and saw both Vito and Domenico on the other side standing up. She nervously tried to avoid Vito's piercing gaze. That was a bad idea. How could she say something so careless?

"What do you mean Josephine?" Vito eyed Josephine more carefully, trying to assess her statement. He thought back to her attempt to shoot herself with Domenico's gun. It was definitely within the realm of possibility and in this case, early therapy was even more urgent than it already was. "Do you have thoughts of ending your life?"

"No! I didn't mean it like that. Really!" Josephine looked pleadingly at Vito so he could see she was serious. "It's just- you won't understand. But I'm not suicidal!" Vito remained silent and looked at her invitingly again. She sighed; she had to seem crazy. "Until less than a week ago, I wasn't sure how I would survive the winter, let alone the next few years. And even if I did survive, I wouldn't have had a high school diploma to go to college. All I could do was plan my immediate future. I think therapy can help me deal with all the stuff in my head, because I know I can't do it alone."

Vito actually had a lot of questions he wanted to ask and things he should probably say, but he knew how difficult it must have been for her to demand something for herself and to stand up for her needs. Questioning her further seemed unnecessarily cruel. Besides, he was secretly glad that she had brought up the topic on her own initiative. "That's a very brave decision on your part and I'm proud of you. You don't need to worry about the money, I'll sort it out with the inheritance. Do you want to find a therapist yourself or should I do that?"

Relief flooded through Josephine. It was okay. He agreed. It was okay. They wouldn't throw her out. "Do you have a telephone in the house that I can use?"

"Thanks for the reminder, I would have forgotten it again." Vito leaned back and reached for something in the drawer. "Valentino bought you a cell phone and we wanted to set it up for you and save the numbers before we gave it to you. Here-" He handed her a cell phone. It felt heavier than it looked, Josephine realized. It even extended over her hands, but that probably wasn't too difficult with her small hands. "- you can find our numbers under contacts. Are you familiar with smartphones?"

Josephine shook her head and pressed a small button on the side. The display lit up and asked her to swipe to unlock the screen. When her parents were still alive, she was too young for it and her foster parents didn't think much of it. They just wanted to make sure that I didn't have the opportunity to have contact with other people, she thought bitterly.