Page 63 of The Demon's Spell

The woman hesitated. “Give me one moment.”

She picked up her phone, and I swear it was the longest phone call in history. “Yes, um, I have Lucas Taylor here for you… I tried to tell him, but he says it’s an emergency… All right.”

She hung up the phone and gestured to the waiting area. “Dr. Mack will be right out.”

As if I could sit down right now. I paced around the waiting room until Dr. Mack arrived.

“Lucas,” she said kindly. “Let’s talk.”

I practically sprinted into her office. The second I sat down, it all came spilling out of me. Dr. Mack wore a nervous expression as she sat there listening. “I saw my Dad, Dr. Mack. I wasn’t prepared for it, and I didn’t think it’d be this bad, but the things he said to me were awful. I used to think it was normal, and now I just can’t help but feel—”

“I can’t see you anymore,” Dr. Mack blurted.

My stomach dropped, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had come to a halt. I couldn’t have heard her right. “I—I know I came unannounced…”

She pressed her fingers to her eyes, like this was too stressful. Was I that annoying?

“I want to help you, Lucas,” she said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. “I really do, but I can’t. You shouldn’t be here.”

“What do you mean? I was just here earlier this week. What changed?”

“Your health insurance was denied,” she stated bluntly.

I felt the blood drain from my face. For a second, I thought we could fix this. A few phone calls to the health insurance company, and we’d be golden. Until I realized… she wasn’t saying there was a problem with my insurance. She was saying I didn’t have insurance anymore. Fuck the priestesses and their fucking war on healthcare. Without school insurance, I lost all my mental health resources, and they didn’t even bother notifying me!

“This is bullshit!” I cried. “There must be something we can do. Put me on a payment plan. I have a job now.”

“A part-time job?” she asked with a sigh. “Lucas, it’s not enough. I’m afraid clinic policy states that once you reach a certain threshold, those bills must be paid before I can see you again. You do understand you’ve already attended several sessions that must be paid out of pocket?”

“Then let me pick up a job here to pay for it,” I begged. “I’ll do part-time janitorial services. Something. You can’t drop me, Dr. Mack. I need you.”

“I’ve helped you all I can,” she said gently, as if the world wasn’t crumbling down. Couldn’t she feel it? The whole ground seemed to shake… or was that me?

“This can’t be it. If I don’t have you, I don’t… I don’t… Goddess, it’s not just my therapy. It’s… it’s Nadine. Without you, I’ll never get the psych approval. Her kidney…” I couldn’t get the words out.

“Let’s take some deep breaths,” Dr. Mack encouraged.

“Why should I listen to you!?” I shot out of my chair. “You don’t want to help me. You just want my money.”

“Lucas. I. Do. Want. To. Help. You.” She was so firm. Her tone softened when she said, “But I can’t.”

I realized there was more to the story, something she couldn’t tell me. I didn’t know if she was magically bound, or if someone was holding a threat over her head. It had to be the priestesses.

Dr. Mack spoke carefully, deliberately. “There are oaths I took as a therapist when I began my practice, something we call doctor-patient confidentiality. I would sooner quit my practice than break my oaths.”

Her message came across clearly. The priestesses had tried to get her to divulge information from our sessions so they could use it against Nadine and me. The health insurance situation was merely convenient timing. Dr. Mack wasn’t dropping me because she didn’t care. She was doing it to protect me.

I didn’t want to be protected. This didn’t just come down to my therapy. It affected Nadine’s transplant, too.

“What about the psych eval?” I asked. “Have I destroyed my chances?”

“I may have the power to see the future, but this time, I truly don’t know what the future holds.” It was very clear there was nothing more she would say—for both our sakes.

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. “I guess this is it, then.”

“For us? Yes,” she said. “For you? No. There are many people in your life who are willing to help you.”

She gave me a sharp look. There was so much she was trying to tell me without saying it out loud. Hell, for all I knew, the priestesses could be watching. The best I could tell, she knew I needed to talk to someone right now, and she was encouraging me to speak to a trusted source.