“Um… Principal Weems,” Oliver said from the back seat as Weems drove him and Wednesday to their mandatory therapy session.
“Can we just agree that the whole thing was a hallucination caused by eating too many sweets? We can forget the therapy session, and everyone goes home happy. I really don’t like therapy.”
Weems kept her eyes on the road.
“Mr. Oliver, if excessive sugar consumption truly resulted in identical hallucinations homicidal monsters, the medical community would have discovered it by now.”
“I was hoping nobody had tested the theory.”
“They have.”
Oliver slumped deeper into his seat.
“So that’s a no.”
“That is an unequivocal no.”
From the passenger seat, Wednesday spoke without taking her eyes off the road ahead.
“Your argument lacks imagination. Next time, claim you were briefly possessed by the ghost of a Victorian spiritualist. At least it would display creativity.”
Oliver looked at her.
“…You’re not helping.”
Wednesday finally glanced at him.
“When have I ever helped you?”
She returned her attention to the passing scenery.
“You should stop expecting sympathy. It’s an inefficient habit.”
Oliver sighed.
“Fair.”
He rested his head against the window.
He really shouldn’t have agreed to help Wednesday plan.
At the time, he’d thought derailing the plot would earn him more Modifications without any real consequences.
Instead he landed himself in mandatory therapy.
“…Yeah,” he muttered.
“That backfired.”
A familiar blue screen appeared before him.
[Congratulations.]
[The world has finally begun recognizing your true value.]
[Mandatory therapy is the first step toward becoming an accepted member of society.]
[History has repeatedly mistaken geniuses for madmen.]
Oliver stared at the floating narration.
“As always…”
“…you’re completely full of shit.”
The screen ignored him.
Another notification appeared.
[Reality Modification Reward Issued.]
[Rarity: Rare.]
Oliver’s expression immediately changed.
A Rare Modification.
That was worth far more than the therapy session was annoying.
Then again…
He had completely derailed the original sequence of events. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Rowan, who should have died in the woods, was still alive.
Granted, he was currently in Jericho General Hospital with a dislocated jaw, several missing teeth, and a concussion courtesy of Oliver.
Compared to being disemboweled by the Hyde, however, that was practically a happy ending.
“If anything,” Oliver thought, “that guy should be thanking me.”
***
A few minutes later, Oliver and Wednesday were seated across from Dr. Kinbott in her office.
Dr. Kinbott smiled as she looked at Wednesday.
“Well, Wednesday, I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. This makes our second session.”
Her attention shifted to the student beside her.
“And I see you’ve brought a classmate.”
She opened Oliver’s file and skimmed through the report.
“Hm…”
She looked up.
“It says here that the two of you claim you encountered a monster in the woods.”
Closing the file, she folded her hands together.
“And according to the report, you appear to share Wednesday’s conviction that what you saw was entirely real.”
Oliver let out a quiet sigh.
“…Unfortunately, it was.”
Wednesday didn’t bother looking at Dr. Kinbott.
“I’ve found reality has an irritating tendency to be dismissed as delusion whenever it’s inconvenient.”
Dr. Kinbott offered a patient smile.
“Then let’s talk about what happened in those woods.”
“I saw nothing. I was just sleeping… I lied,” Oliver said.
He really didn’t want to spend his free time sitting through therapy sessions when he could be slacking off somewhere else.
Dr. Kinbott smiled knowingly.
“Mr. Oliver, that’s a surprisingly common statement.”
Oliver blinked.
“It is?”
She nodded.
“Patients who don’t want to attend therapy often insist nothing happened or that they made everything up. It’s usually less about the truth and more about avoiding the next appointment.”
Oliver sank a little deeper into his chair.
“…So you’ve heard that before.”
“Many times.”
Oliver let out a defeated sigh.
“…Damn.”
Wednesday glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
“You’ve discovered the downside of attempting deception on someone who interviews liars for a living.” This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Oliver folded his arms.
“I miss five minutes ago when I still had hope.”
“But are you prepared to hear the truth, Doctor?” Wednesday asked.
Dr. Kinbott folded her hands.
“And are you prepared to accept that your interpretation might not be the only one?”
Wednesday didn’t hesitate.
“Then tell me which explanation you prefer.”
She leaned back slightly.
“That there’s a monster capable of gutting people alive…”
Her voice remained perfectly even.
“…or that the two victims found dead outside Jericho over the past three weeks, both disemboweled, are merely an extraordinary coincidence?”
Dr. Kinbott held her gaze.
“Sheriff Galpin believes a wild animal is responsible.”
“That’s his conclusion,” Wednesday replied.
“Not evidence.”
“The investigation is still ongoing.”
“Exactly.”
Dr. Kinbott smiled patiently.
“Wednesday, you’re beginning with the assumption that a monster exists and interpreting every piece of information through that lens.”
“I’m beginning with the evidence.”
“No,” Dr. Kinbott said gently.
“You’re beginning with a belief, then selecting evidence that supports it.”
Wednesday tilted her head.
“And you’re beginning with the belief that monsters don’t exist.”
A brief silence settled over the room.
Dr. Kinbott broke it first.
“I believe there’s a difference between asking difficult questions and reaching conclusions before the facts support them.”
Wednesday’s expression didn’t change.
“I’ll let the facts decide which of us is correct.”
Oliver quietly ate the bowl of snacks sitting in front of him while the two continued their back-and-forth.
He looked from Wednesday to Dr. Kinbott, then back again.
…Wow.
So this is what therapy sessions are like.
He popped another piece into his mouth.
He decided it was probably safer to keep eating and stay out of it.
The snacks, at least, weren’t trying to prove a point.