"You've missed our last few sessions."
"I'm sorry, things have been-"
"Hectic?" The young doctor smiled, charming creases tracing around deep grey eyes. Inna blushed, began to fidget with the hem of her skirt, pulling at thread.
A clocked chimed on the wall; cool sea air battered against the shuttered window that allowed a breathtaking view of town, the shore. The doctor excused himself and Inna watched him walk elegantly, lazily to the window, his chestnut hair dancing boyishly in the salty breeze. He brought the pane down and locked it.
"I had tried to make it to your mother's party, but managing time doesn't come easily. Between lectures and my patients..."
"It's okay," She replied quietly, avoiding his compassionate gaze.
Forgetting that Dr. John Tanus knew her better than anyone, despite how little she actually divulged to him.
He returned to the chair across from her, patterned with anchors and sailboats; the office was decorated as such, like most places on the island.
"Are you feeling any more adjusted since we last spoke?
"Yes." She looked up to see him looking at her that way. It only stayed there a moment, a fleeting pass of light, but it was a look that made her shy away.
It was too familiar.
John crossed his legs casually, cleared his throat.
"Whatever it is, Inna, that you feel you can't say to your mother or father...well, that's why you're here. To open up. You've nothing to be ashamed of." He paused, leaned forward. "Ingrid sent you to me out of worry, she never particularly wanted you to leave for the convent, but when you abandoned-"
"I didn't abandon Saint Appian's."
"We've never discussed why you left, I'm sorry. It was a poor choice of words," John said gently, and Inna nearly gasped when he rose from his chair and moved to the empty spot beside her on the couch. His weight settled, and she could smell his cologne; light and spicy.
"Why don't we discuss it now?"
"My mother...told you what happened at the party." It wasn't a question, and she felt herself tense with imminent sobs.
"She mentioned it briefly. As I said, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I only want to help. There's nothing to quicken this process of healing, and it is slow and it is painful, but...I can't help you until some of the wall you've built around yourself is taken down."
John watched her struggle to hold back tears, and wanted nothing more than to help her, to solve the puzzle that was Inna Faye.
Both wants, seemingly impossible.
"My heart is...it's breaking," She whimpered, a trembling hand rising to her young, rosy face.
He could feel himself breaking, as well.
"Inna, what happened? What was done to you?" Foolishly, courageously, he took the hand that she hid behind, pulled it close and held tight.
"I opened...it, and-"
"Opened what, Inna?" He pressed, giddy with the promise of a breakthrough; but he saw the very moment her expression glazed over, and knew that she would say nothing else on the matter.
Both fell silent for a moment, in defeat.
"Would you like a ride home? It wouldn't be any trouble," John offered, releasing her hand; It was oddly painful to do so.
"I'll walk."