The Year She Stopped Being Crazy for Him novel Chapter 190

The moment her phone powered on, a flood of notifications popped up.

[Marvin Ford: Why aren't you at the lab yet? Did something happen?]

[Marvin Ford: Are you still sleeping?]

[Marvin Ford: I already covered for you and called you in sick.]

[Marvin Ford: I heard Gardenia ended up in the hospital. What the hell happened? Jacob wanted to storm Sunriver Residences to confront you, but I managed to stop him.]

She scrolled past and checked her other messages.

[Cecily: It's the holidays. The fruit orchards at the manor are ripe for picking. If you have time, you and Hassan should come over for a few days to relax and clear your heads.]

It seemed Cecily didn't know about the catastrophe last night yet; otherwise, her text would have been a furious reprimand instead of an invitation.

Natalie frowned and ignored the message. The next one was from Zeke, sent a short while ago.

[Zeke: Mrs. Carlson, Mr. Carlson requested that you return to Sycamore Quays. Would you like me to send a car to pick you up?]

[Natalie: I'm busy.]

After hitting send, she replied to Marvin to thank him. She then locked her phone, grabbed an ice pack, and applied it to her swollen, sprained ankle.

A few moments later, Hassan called her directly.

Natalie ignored it, powered her phone completely off, and sat down for a proper meal. The warm, comforting soup settled in her stomach, bringing life back to her exhausted body.

While eating, Natalie kept a close eye on Nancy.

Her friend was constantly spacing out, staring into nothingness, and even a soft call of her name made her jump in terror.

While transferring her lab data to her laptop, Natalie resolved to find a therapist for Nancy.

A single night of being frightened couldn't cause this level of dissociation. It had to be a severe trauma response triggered by her past.

The only person in her network with that kind of psychological expertise was Yale Easton.

She turned her phone back on and sent him a message.

[Natalie: A friend of mine went through a terrible shock last night, and her mental state is really fragile. She's terrified of seeing a therapist, though. Have you dealt with this kind of resistance before? What's the best way to handle it?]

It took a little while, but a reply finally came:

[Yale Easton: Don't tell her I'm a doctor. Just say I'm a new friend you made. We can all grab a meal together, and I'll observe her condition first.]

Natalie quickly agreed to the plan.

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