Chapter 2
She lay collapsed in the snow, covered in blood, like an abandoned kitten.
So helpless, just like I had been when I was lost in the dark fog of my own depression.
My heart went out to her.
I brought her back to my beach house, cleaned her wounds, gave her medicine, and cared for her.
She was a homeless orphan, all alone in the city with no one to turn to.
I knew that kind of despair all too well, and I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else enduring the same suffering.
So, I let her stay.
I thought I was doing a good deed.
Little did I know, I was inviting a wolf into my home...
Because of her pitiable story, Shawn took special care of her, even bending the rules to make her his assistant at his clinic.
He told me at the time,
"Diane is all alone. We can't let the poor girl wander the streets; Heaven knows what might happen to her."
I didn't doubt him.
Because Shawn was a psychologist; being soft-hearted, sensitive, and compassionate was just his nature.
When I was severely ill, he brought gentle kittens, and together we built a little haven for them, letting these small creatures soothe my pain.
To coax me into eating, he’d personally cook my favorite dish.
He used to say that the small glimmers of light in everyday life were the best medicine for depression and anxiety.
That was how he had saved me.
So, when he offered Diane a helping hand,
I didn't question it.
But I never imagined that from that moment on, everything would silently begin to change. Diane began to frequently insert herself into our lives.
She would knock opportunely at dinnertime, bringing dishes she loved, telling Shawn she had nowhere to cook.
Shawn would sigh, looking to me for my opinion, hoping I'd agree to swap the dishes we were about to cook for something Diane liked.
My heart would soften, and I’d eventually nod in agreement.
When the dishes were served, she would be the first to place food onto Shawn’s plate.
Then, she’d flash a sweet smile, a glint of cunning in her eyes that I didn't notice at the time:
"Shawn always said you were the kindest, and he was absolutely right."
At that moment, I was still happy that the orphan girl had finally found shelter.
But then, she began to visit more and more frequently.
At first, it was just minor complaints like a sprained ankle or a stomachache.
Later, it escalated to her waking from nightmares, calling Shawn in tears late at night...
"Shawn, I had another nightmare, I’m so scared... I dreamed I was abandoned again. You… you won’t abandon me too, will you? Please, I’m really terrified. Can you come over, just for a little while?"
Shawn would hurriedly get up, haphazardly throw on some clothes, and be about to leave.
I opened my eyes and sat up in bed.
Gazing at the silent living room, I sank into an unspeakable silence—
He had never once refused her.
It wasn't until that time, when I was burning up with a fever of 102 degrees Fahrenheit, lying in bed half-delirious, that Shawn received another call from Diane.
Her voice on the other end was laced with a pitiful plea:
"Shawn, I can't sleep. Can you come and soothe me to sleep? I'm all alone in this city, and I'm just so terribly lonely..."
He rose, ready to leave.
In my daze, acting on an instinct born of years of dependence, I clutched at the hem of his shirt.
The high fever clouded my vision, and all the grievances I had bottled up inside me came pouring out.
I asked him,
"Does she truly need you that much?"
He frowned.
"Arlene, she's not like you; she doesn't have a happy family. She's sick right now. Can't you try to understand her, instead of vying for my attention at a time like this?"
"Haven't you been sick before, too? Are you really going to push a kind girl to the same desperate edge you once faced?"
I was rendered speechless.
My hand, clinging to him, slipped away.
He spoke so gently, yet his words were like a blade he called 'morality,' slicing into my heart, piece by piece.
It wasn't until today.
That I finally understood.
The one who truly had a happy family was never me.
It was...
Diane.