I knew when I walked in, and he saw my bloodshot, puffy eyes, he would assume it was depression related. Anytime I'd had a bad day since he found the prescription, that's where it always went-my depression. Another reason I'd kept my secret-I could no longer have an off day without someone believing I needed to be admitted.
He was sitting on the couch in deep thought when I walked in. He zoned in on my eyes and his squinted just slightly in anger-he didn't think I'd been crying-he thought I was high. I hadn't done drugs since the day I'd left Scarlett's, but that's where his mind had gone.
"Hey, Bird Dog. How was your day?"
I shrugged before plopping down on the couch next to him. He lifted his arm, I tucked my body into his side, and the emotion poured out. We sat in silence for quite
