se·cret
/ˈsēkrət/
adjective
not known or seen or not meant to be known or seen by others.
noun
something that is kept or meant to be kept unknown or unseen by others.
de·sire
/dəˈzī(ə)r/
noun
a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing...
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Third POV
Due to the incident with Jeff, Tiffany has decided to add hours to Eboni's therapy sessions, hoping that the girl will open up about what happened that night. Every day after school, Eboni is forced to endure four hours more of therapy.
To add salt to the wound, Tiffany has been watching the girl like a hawk. The woman has decided to stay home while her husband, Daniel, is away on business. The foster mother wants to make sure Eboni is truly okay before she has to leave again for work. Tiffany has been picking Eboni up from school every day for the past week and a half, dropping her off at her therapy sessions as well- making sure she doesn't miss any.
Eboni is currently staring at the clock on the wall of the room, watching the minutes pass slowly. "Thirty minutes left...", she thinks to herself.
"Eboni. You have sat there for four hours and haven't said a word. You need to talk to me." Loraine, the therapist, presses.
She ignores her as usual, frowning under her mask even though Loraine can't see her face. The silence causes the therapist to lose a bit of her patience.
"You're parents are paying a lot of money for you to be here. It would be a shame for that money to go to waste, Eboni." Loraine said sternly.
That caused the girl to send a rather chilling glare at the therapist. "They aren't my parents. They're just people who took pity on me, for their own personal gain. My real parents are six feet under." Eboni snap.
Loraine raises a brow, writing down on her clipboard, which irks her even more. "Talk about your parents, what are the latest memories of them?"
"Fuck off."
"Eboni Brown, you're making this harder on everyone around who's only trying to help you. Please be more considerate." The therapist tries to reason, her patience thinning.
"Loraine, was it? Look, I don't need a person with a piece of paper of their accomplishments to tell me how fucked in the head I am. Since this is a place of honesty, why don't you start? You took this profession not to help people, but to stack loads of money in a short amount of time. It's funny, taking a job that requires bucket loads of patience for their clients, yet you lack even an ounce of that."
The vein bulging from the therapist's temple is hilarious to Eboni, but she holds in her laugh. Glancing at the clock, she notices her session is finally over. Eboni stands, placing her hood over her head and her hands in her pockets. She walks to the door, giving another glance towards Loraine.
"Since you didn't deny anything I said, how about instead of asking me pointless shit, you just sit there and think of the money you'll get from our extra hours together," Eboni said before leaving the woman's office and building.
She jumps into the back seat of Tiffany's car, hoping she won't ask how the session went- unfortunately, luck is never on her side. "How did it go?" She asked while driving the way home.
