Devon let out a shallow breath as she stared at Lewis, who was tearing up at the dish she made. She pressed lips into a thin line, biting her inner lips, as her mind drifted to a certain memory in her head.
Two months ago...
Devon sat down. Across from her was her psychologist. It was that time of the month where she would talk to this woman.
"So, how have you been, Missus Lin?" The psychologist smiled kindly, resting her hand on her lap to listen to Devon. The latter pursed her lips as she gazed down.
"Better?"
"Better? Are you not sure?"
Devon smiled bitterly as she slowly lifted her head. "I am not sure." She paused, diverting her eyes down. Her doctor remained silent to give her some time to express herself.
"You are killing her," she muttered bitterly, clutching her hand tightly. "Every time I come in here, you are killing her. The more I get better, the more she is disappearing."
