~Reo’s~

“You’ve hit rock bottom, Mr. Cuss. Now what are you going to do about it?”

Her voice makes Reo flinch. He's slouched on the gray couch, fingers knotted in his lap, still wearing yesterday’s dress shirt; wrinkled, untucked, and hollow like him.

He lifts his eyes slowly. “I don’t know,” he whispers. “I don’t know who I am without all this noise.”

Dr. Nia Harland folds her arms, one brow arched. Her charcoal blouse fits crisp against her tall frame, and her gaze is direct. “That’s the first honest thing you’ve said since our sessions began.”

Reo laughs, but it comes out rough. “Congratulations.”

“No,” she replies evenly, “that’s...