Jay threw Rose's mask into the trash can.
Her eyes widened as her gaze followed the falling of the mask, her heart beginning to feel inexplicably empty.
Not leaving her any time to dwell in self-pity, Jay spoke, "Come with me."
"Where are we going?" She followed him out of the hospital room.
A couple of people walked from the opposite direction from time to time in the long corridor.
During then, Rose would find herself turning to face the wall, as to avoid others seeing that deformed face o f hers.
Every time that happened, the corners of Jay's eyes burned.
He had brought Rose to the office of a professional therapist.
Rose stared at the plate on the door reading ' Psychology’. Immediately, a strong gust of rejection arose and she did not want to enter the room.
"Why’d you bring me here, Mr. President? I... I'm very mentally healthy."
Turning around, he responded, "Old Master Severe is
very important to me. It’s in my best interest that you learn as much on the topic of psychology as possible.”
Rose froze.
She had overreacted, then? She was not here to be counseled?
Slowly, Rose shuffled over.
Meeting the therapist's gaze, she felt her heart begin t o thud as her body trembled against her will.
A look at Rose had Jay realizing her nervousness since all her worry was written on her face.
"Take a seat." The therapist pulled out the chair across hers.
She sat uneasily.
For a reason unknown to her, the dread similar to being set on the Guillotine settled in her chest.
The therapist was a sincere and humorous old madam. She turned to speak to Jay, "How are this lady and I supposed to concentrate when a handsome man like you is in the room, Mr. President?"
Hearing the words left unsaid, Jay left with a smile.
He closed the door behind him like a gentleman as well.
Rose smiled slightly at the old madam's humor.
The old madam then passed her a few questionnaires. "Take a look. These here are checklist questionnaires that we use to determine whether a patient has depression or anxiety problems."
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