Chapter 4

The next morning, Ava woke with a new sense of purpose.

It was small, fragile, but it was there.

She went downstairs.

Her parents were already in the kitchen.

Her mom was making coffee. Her dad was reading the newspaper.

A typical morning scene.

But today, Ava felt different.

She sat down at the table.

"Morning," she said. Her voice was stronger, clearer.

Her parents looked up, surprised.

"Morning, honey," her mom said, a cautious smile on her face.

"You seem... better today," her dad observed.

"I am," Ava said. "I've been thinking."

She took a deep breath.

"I think... I think I need to talk to someone," Ava said. "Professionally."

Her parents froze.

Her mom put down the coffee pot. Her dad lowered his newspaper.

Silence.

Ava could feel their fear. Their worry.

They were remembering the last time she'd needed professional help. After the overdose.

"Ava, honey..." her mom began, her voice trembling.

"It's not like before, Mom," Ava said calmly. "I'm not... broken. Not in that way. But I'm lost. And I need help finding my way back."

She looked at them, her gaze steady.

"I want to get better," Ava said. "I want to be me again."

Her mom's eyes filled with tears.

Her dad's face crumpled.

He stood up, came around the table, and pulled Ava into a hug.

A tight, desperate hug.

"Oh, Ava," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "That's all we've ever wanted."

Ava hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder.

She felt her mom's arms wrap around both of them.

A family hug. Warm. Safe.

"We'll find you the best doctor, honey," her mom said, her voice choked with tears. "Whatever it takes."

"Thank you," Ava said, her own eyes stinging.

They stayed like that for a long moment, clinging to each other.

A family, battered but not broken.

Later that day, Ava's mom came into her room.

She had a piece of paper in her hand.

"I did some research," her mom said, her voice full of nervous energy. "There's a new psychologist in town. Dr. Liam Walker. He specializes in trauma and cognitive recovery. He comes highly recommended."

Liam Walker. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

"He's an old family friend's son," her mom continued. "The Walkers? You remember them? Liam just moved back after being away for years. Ivy League, top of his class."

The Walkers. Yes, Ava remembered them. Nice people. Their son, Liam... he was older than her. Smart. Kind.

She hadn't seen him since she was a kid.

"Okay," Ava said. "I'll see him."

Her mom's face lit up. "Oh, Ava, that's wonderful!"

She hugged Ava tightly. "I'm so proud of you."

Ava felt a warmth spread through her.

This was the right decision. She knew it.

A few days later, Ava found herself standing in front of a beautifully renovated brownstone.

Dr. Liam Walker's clinic.

It didn't look like a typical doctor's office. It looked like a home. Welcoming. Serene.

Ava took a deep breath and rang the bell.

The door opened.

A man stood there. Mid-twenties, tall, with kind eyes and a gentle smile.

"Ava Miller?" he asked. His voice was calm, soothing.

"Yes," Ava said. "Dr. Walker?"

"Liam, please," he said, stepping aside. "Come in."

The inside of the clinic was just as serene as the outside. Soft colors, comfortable furniture, beautiful art on the walls.

It felt peaceful.

They sat in his office. It was filled with books and plants.

A large print of sunflowers hung on one wall.

Sunflowers. Ava felt a faint flicker of a pleasant memory. Childhood. Non-romantic. Just... nice.

Dr. Walker – Liam – leaned back in his chair.

"So, Ava," he said, his voice gentle. "Tell me what's been going on."

Ava hesitated. Where to begin?

"It's... complicated," she said.

He smiled. "Most things worth talking about are."

Ava found herself relaxing. There was something about him... a calmness, an empathy, that made her feel safe.

She started to talk. About Ethan. About the betrayal. About the overdose. About the amnesia.

She told him about the void, the emptiness where her feelings for Ethan used to be.

She told him about feeling lost, about not knowing who she was anymore.

He listened patiently, his gaze never wavering. He didn't interrupt. He just listened.

As she talked, a strange thing happened.

A turn of phrase he used. A shared childhood anecdote he mentioned in passing, relating to the town.

Suddenly, Ava knew.

"Liam?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Liam Walker? From Sycamore Street?"

He smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes.

"The one and only," he said. "It's been a long time, Ava."

Ava stared at him.

Liam. Her older childhood friend. The quiet, intelligent boy who used to let her tag along, who always had a kind word, a patient explanation.

He had left for college years ago. She'd forgotten about him, mostly.

Now, he was here. Dr. Liam Walker. Her psychologist.

"I... I can't believe it," Ava said.

"Small world, isn't it?" Liam said, his eyes twinkling.

He leaned forward, his expression becoming more serious.

"Ava, I want to assure you of complete confidentiality," he said. "Our shared history won't affect my professionalism. My priority is your recovery, your well-being."

He paused. "My therapeutic approach will focus on empowering you to understand yourself and build future resilience. We won't force the retrieval of painful memories, unless that's something you feel is necessary for your healing."

Ava looked at him. At the kind eyes, the gentle smile.

She felt a sense of trust. A sense of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, he could help her find her way back.