Cry Me A River | Book Two/Season Two

15

"Alara, how are you feeling about the...situation?" Ms. Morrell asks as we sit in her office. Pretty much everyone who was at the station that night has required therapy.

I lean back in the chair and roll my eyes at her question.

"You mean being held at gun point?" I ask, and she nods her head. "I don't feel anything about the situation."

"Alara, for this to work you have to open up." She explains, leaning forwards on the desk.

I sigh and run a hand through my hair before placing both of my hands in my lap, fiddling with the strings from my bracelets.

"Stuff happens, Ms. Morrell. I don't know what else to tell you." I respond, my voice cold. She nods her head and sighs, writing something down in her notebook.

"Let's move on to the next question. How did Matt's death make you feel?" My mind clouds with all of the possible answers I could give her. When the word 'satisfied' comes to mind, I can't help but once again remember James' words from the hallucination.

"You wanna know how I really feel about everything ever?" I ask, getting more and more annoyed with her questions. "Foggy. I feel like I'm constantly walking through a field filled with fog and everyone's calling my name, but I can never find them. I don't know which direction is the right direction or if I'm even going to the right voice."

"Could this feeling be connected to a moral dilemma?" She questions, writing more in her notebook.

"I guess I just wonder...what if I'm not who everyone thinks I am?" When she doesn't respond, I continue, unable to stop at this point. "Sometimes I can't tell what's right or wrong. It's like my morals settle in this gray area where there's no rules. Like my morals can change depending on the situation I'm in."

"This sounds like an identity issue. When you don't know who you are, you won't know the difference between what you know is true and what others say is true. You've just got to figure out who's voice is confusing you and take care of it." She tells me, surprising me with her genuinely good advice.

Take care of it...

-

That night, as I'm lying-in bed, an unwelcomed voice reaches my ears coming from Scott's room. Gerard.

I throw the covers off of my legs and run to Scott's room, seeing my mom being held against the wall by the kanima and Gerard Argent sitting in the chair in the corner.

"Alara, I'm glad you could make it." He starts as he taps his fingers on the arm rest of the chair. "As you can see, there's been some interesting developments lately. I think we should all catch up."

Instead of responding, I extract my claws, knowing Scott's done the same.

"Come on, guys, let's be realistic about who's got the upper hand here." Gerard says mockingly.

"Let her go." I demand, not moving, afraid of what he'll do.

"Can't do that. But let her live? That's up to the two of you." He tells us. I look to Scott who's watching Gerard with a glare that could kill.

"What do you want?" Scott questions skeptically.

"I want to talk. You haven't been answering your phone." Gerard responds as if him and Scott have a regular scheduled phone call.

"Let her go, and we can talk about whatever you want." Scott tries to negotiate.

Gerard slowly rises from his seat as he says, "I want the same thing that I have always wanted. I want Derek and his pack."