The Victim (Book #1)

Chapter 8

A couple days later, Charlotte came in just as I woke up. She opened the windows wide, making me groan, and smiled at the pajamas I was wearing. We had forgotten to pick some up at the store a couple days ago, so she picked some up yesterday and left them in a drawer for me. There were a huge variety of outfits, from fancy silk stuff to generic T-shirts but I chose the one that had Sheriff Woody from Toy Story on it and some black shorts. I loved the movie when I was a kid and the shirt was way too big, in the most comfortable way.

She looked around at the bags of clothes I had lying everywhere, and the shoes scattered in the corners and next to the bed.

"Good morning, sunshine." She said brightly, sitting at the foot of my bed.

"Hi." I said back, not used to this.

"So, I know it's only been a week of you staying here, but I think it's time for us to have our first session together. If you're ready, that is."

I sucked in my breath quietly and held it. "And what is in a session, exactly?" I asked.

"Good question! We'll just be in the office downstairs, and I'll ask you some questions, or you can talk to me about whatever you'd like. If I ever go too far, you can stop me, and you can fully expect that I'll get things wrong. I often do." she added, pausing to give me a warm smile. "I can guide the conversation if you'd like, or you can lead us, and I'll just follow along."

"I guess I can do that." I said, sitting up and pushing my long hair down on my head so it would look normal. She laughed and stood up, clapping her hands together. "Great! Meet me downstairs when you're fully awake!"

She began to leave the room but turned back at the last second.

"And Maya?"

"Yes?" I asked, groggily.

"You better put those clothes away by tonight. I didn't empty those drawers so you could leave 'em empty forever." She said with a wink, and a sly smile.

For some reason, I loved that she was giving me rules. I nodded and grinned, but it faded quickly as she walked away.

She said she emptied the drawers for me, but all of the boys had their own rooms. What was in this room before I got here? And why was I sure I wouldn't like the answer?

- - -

Sitting in one of the red comfy armchairs in her office was kind of fun, but kind of scary. I was worried, somehow, that she would make me tell her something I didn't want to or that she would hate my answers. I didn't want her to hate me, either. Although I had been ready to at least have a polite conversation, when I got to the room, I shut down. She could tell from my eyes that it was now up to her, but she didn't seem daunted.

She started out simply, asking how my week was going. I decided to try to be honest.

"Fun, sort of... I really like staying here and I think the boys don't all hate me anymore. I'm not sure of course, but they don't glare all the time." I wasn't sure if I was talking too much, or too little. Did I even answer the question she had asked?

She smiled apologetically but I waved away her concerns with my hand. "They're welcoming me fine, so don't tell them anything about it."

She nodded and said, "If you'd like that, I suppose."

"I think they didn't think I'd stand up for myself. But I do." I said, with a grin.

"Why is that?"

"Who else is gonna?" I said with a laugh.

"I'd stand up for you." She said, looking into my eyes again as if the absurd depth and adoration she possessed for people was entirely normal.

"That makes two of us, then." I replied, wryly. She chuckled and then her face turned a bit darker. Bad news was coming.