I pulled into my reserved parking space and turned off my car. I grabbed my briefcase from the passenger seat and made my way to WWA's main building, which was where my office was located. I was a psychiatrist and worked for Wayne Warren, who was my father-in-law. I walked into the building and was greeted by some of my co-workers. I politely smiled at them and made a quick left to the elevator up to the tenth floor, and immediately saw the face of my diligent receptionist, Lori.
She scowled at the phone she had pressed against her ear and slammed the phone down on the receiver. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she handed me my cup of coffee.
"Jeff again?" I asked, sipping my coffee. She nodded and heaved a sigh, she handed me two folders full of paperwork. They were neatly filed and organized, but still quite heavy.
"I keep telling you to change your number." I smirked and walked towards my office.
"You don't pay me enough to do that!" She called after me. I chuckled lightly, closing my office door. I had known Lori since my freshmen year in college when we met in the same psychology class and shared interests in shows on the Investigation Discovery channel, and we've been best friends ever since. I was the one who had gotten her the job at the office by putting in a good word for at with my father-in-law, and the owner of this facility. Wayne Warren was the father of my wife, Lailah.
I grabbed the first folder Lori had given me; I slide my reading glasses on my face and began reading. The patient's name was Emmanuel Perez; I took a long look as his features. Dark eyes, light skin, thick glasses, and braids which made him resemble Sean Paul in a way. His face was sort of cute... I shrugged off my gay statement. I scanned over the rest of the file, until something caught my eye.
Georgia Regional Hospital 2006-2013.
Depression.
Attempted suicide and murder.
I gulped hard. Why isn't he in jail? I flipped ahead some pages, and found his court statement. He pleads innocent for insanity and mental issues. He was then sent to Georgia Regional hospital as of 2006 up until last year. I tore through the next folder, which went into detail about the suicide, murder, and depression.
He was diagnosed with depression in 2005, in his senior year of high school. He did not reveal to his therapist, Dr. Peyton, what exactly caused his depression but his mother thought it had something to do with the death of his classmate who had committed suicide some time before. The depression then led to him trying to kill himself, when his younger brother caught him attempting to hang himself in the hall closet. A month later his mother had caught him trying to smother his younger brother in his sleep and he had told her he did so because he foiled his plans of ending his life.
My eyes widened as I continued to read through.
His mother didn't want to press charges, but his brother, being thirteen at the time, called the police the following morning with the help of his grandfather who completely agreed with his statement. The police then came to arrest Emmanuel where he surprisingly didn't resist the officers. He stayed in the Atlanta County Jail for three days until his court date. His mother paid for him a lawyer and he was then proven innocent, by reason of insanity. He was ordered to a mental hospital, and his mother was given the choice to send him there or send him to jail. During the seven long years in the hospital, Emmanuel wouldn't talk to anyone except for his therapist Dr. Peyton. When Dr. Peyton resigned from Emmanuel's case last year, it brought him here for new help. I stared long and hard at Emmanuel's file, in shock.
"Mr. August," Lori knocked on my door. I jumped, hitting my knee on my desk. I cursed under my breath and saw Lori appear in the doorway, with a lingering shadow behind her.
