“How about you? When was the last time you did something that made you truly happy?”

“Hey, Missy.” I grinned. “Who’s helping who here?”

A lot had changed since I’d left college. I was still at home living with my parents, and Brie was still very much a part of my life, but I had a job now. I helped people who, like me, struggled to find their purpose in life. After the accident it felt as though I was giving something back. Even if I made a difference to just one person, it was enough for me. It meant one less person in the world was suffering and that brought me a great sense of self-worth. I’d needed that more than I knew.

“Believe me,” Daisy said, cutting through my thoughts and reminding me she was there. “You have no idea how much you have helped me already, and I’m grateful. I really am, but… You spend your days stuck in this creepy office, behind that crappy desk—which, by the way, has gum stuck underneath—helping others like me, when you aren’t really happy yourself. So, Miss Henderson, who is helping you?”

“Me?” I let out a short laugh, hating the way her words hit home. “I don’t need help. I’m fine.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t see it. All I see is someone who is afraid to go after what they want. Someone who is afraid to be happy, even when given the chance.”

“You sound like someone I used to know.” I smiled. “He always told me I should concentrate on who I was rather than who I thought I was meant to be.”

“He was right.”

“Anyway,” I said, shaking my head. “We’re not here to discuss me. We are here for you,” I sang. “Tell me... Did you speak to your mum like you said you would?”

Daisy held her right hand in front of her and examined her fingernails. She glanced up at me briefly and shrugged. “It’s hard, ya know? I can see how hurt she is. It’s difficult for her, too. She can barely look me in the eye without crying.”

I gave her a small smile. I knew what she was saying. I’d been there before. After the accident, Mum would rarely glance my way, let alone speak to me. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she thought up something to say that she knew wouldn’t set me off. I hated how that made her feel.

I let out a sigh and moved out from behind my desk. “She’s your mum,” I began, perching my bottom on the edge next to her. “And she loves you very much. All any parent wants is for their child to be safe and to protect them from harm. I imagine she feels very much like she’s failed you in some way. Remember that first day I saw you sat outside, lost and afraid? You told me that you couldn’t live with the fact that it was your fault. You blamed yourself. You said that if you’d just acted differently—worn a different outfit—that maybe it wouldn’t have happened? Your mum is feeling the same way. She wonders what would’ve happened if she had stayed home more, hadn’t worked late that evening,” I explained. “It’s all she can think about, and much like you did, she blames herself.”

Daisy listened intently and seemed to take in my words. She was quiet for a moment, just processing her own thoughts. “I’ve told her it isn’t. Her fault, that is. I did.”

“I know you did, Daisy, but think of it this way… When you finally opened up to me, I told you that you weren’t to blame for what happened to you. You didn’t listen to me. I saw the way you caved in on yourself, shrinking in your own skin. It took me months to convince you that what I was saying wasn’t some ploy to get you to open up to me. To understand that what I was saying was the truth.”

“Yeah, you practically forced me to believe you,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Hardly.” I snorted. “I merely gave you a gentle nudge in the right direction. Deep down, you already believed it.”

“A nudge?” she asked sarcastically. “You locked me in this room. A gentle nudge my ar—”

“Fine. So I’m not your typical counsellor,” I butted in. “I have my own way of getting through to people and if locking them in a room until they open up is the best way to do that then I’ll do just that. Besides, I haven’t done you any harm, right?”

“Actually, no. I hate to admit this but I’m really going to miss this, our chats and stuff.”

I shot her a knowing smile. She knew this was already over. I was no longer needed. And whether Daisy knew it or not, she had helped me, too. Truthfully, I had always looked forward to our sessions. While I knew I’d most likely never see her again after today, I was happy knowing that this bright, beautiful—and way too smart for her own good—seventeen-year-old girl, was finally on the right path to acceptance.

The final stage of recovery was to accept what had happened. Because no matter how terrifying that was, it was the relief you felt when you finally did it that made all the grief, hurt and anger worthwhile. It was like taking your first breath all over again.

Daisy would soon move on and eventually live the life she’d always dreamed of as a little girl. She would experience love at its most vulnerable, and heartbreak at its highest. But Daisy already had what most girls that age weren’t aware of… and that was the strength and ability to move forward and know when you have to fight hard to take back that control.

I gazed down and smiled a genuine smile. “Me too, Daisy. Me too.”

Seeming pleased with my reply, Daisy pushed her back against the chair and gathered her bag and jacket up from the floor.

I glanced at the watch on my wrist where the scar was once so prominent, and sighed. Our time was up.

“I’m going to leave before you start crying on me.” Daisy grinned.

I laughed lightly and watched as she curled her hand around the door handle. Daisy pulled the door ajar and stopped. “And Miss Henderson?”

“Lola. It’s Lola.” I smiled.

“Lola? You deserve to be happy, too. After all, fear isn’t real,” she stated firmly, playing with the words I’d spoken to her during one of our many sessions.

“It’s a choice,” I finished for her.

Daisy cocked her head to the side and smirked. “Good. Now remember that.”

“Okay, smarty pants.” I laughed. “Get out of my office.”

Daisy shook her head and eventually left the room, closing the door behind her.

And don’t come back, I thought to myself as I rounded the desk and sat back down.

I picked up Daisy’s file and tucked a few stray papers back inside before I sealed it shut for the very last time.

Fear isn’t real. It’s a choice.

Taylor had said those very same words to me once and they had stuck with me, much like he had.

“Don’t ever regret wanting what you want. Don’t be afraid to do what excites you. Take the thrill… Besides, fear isn’t real, Lola. It’s a choice.”

“What’s a choice?”

I jerked my head up to see Greg standing in the doorway to my office with his arms folded across his chest, looking confused.

“Huh?” I said, making an incoherent noise.

“You said it’s a choice. What’s a choice?”

“Oh… Nothing,” I said, waving it off. “Just remembering something, that’s all.”

“You always did think out loud. You know, you should be careful. You never know what you might say,” he said, grinning wickedly.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, very funny.”

“Anyway, we’re heading out for lunch. You in or out?”

“Out. Sorry,” I apologised as I pulled my bag out from under the table and shoved my diary inside. “There’s actually something I need to do. Tomorrow, though?”

He laughed at my awkwardness, but didn’t push me on why I was being so weird all of a sudden.

“Sure, no problem.”

After I left the office early, I went straight home. Mum was still at work but Dad was in the study, working. I heard him on the phone, so I didn’t bother going in to say hello. Knowing his phone conversations, he’d be in there a while.

Seeing the way that Daisy had handled everything, the strength and determination she had shown towards the end, well, it had taught me something. I was the only one who could control my life. No one else. Just me. It had also made me realise that I still hadn’t fully let go of the past. I had stopped myself from moving forward with my life, allowing the past to keep me just there.

When I got home, I pulled down the old shoebox I kept on top of my wardrobe. The box contained old letters, photos of friends and family, and little mementos I’d collected from the places we’d visited.

The box was covered in years’ worth of dust and cobwebs when I pulled it down and eventually began rifling through the contents. It had been there since we moved and I’d never had the guts to open it until now. I wasn’t even sure what had brought me to open it to begin with.

I smiled at the earlier photos. I looked happy. Different. But as I reached the later ones, it was easy to see that something in my life had changed. My smile looked forced, almost as if I were constipated, and I looked older than I was. My face was worn out. Tired. There was only one word that could truly sum up my appearance and that was miserable.

Just as I wondered what the sixteen-year-old version of me had been feeling at the time, a knock on my bedroom door forced me to hold back on my thoughts.

“Come in,” I called out, gathering the photos into a pile in an attempt to hide them.

“Hey, I thought I heard you up here. How was work?” Dad asked as he peered around my bedroom door before perching on the edge of the bed beside me. His gaze drifted to the open box on my bed.

“It was good,” I replied. “Actually, it was better than good. It was great. Do you remember that girl I was telling you about?” I reminded him.

I hadn’t told Mum and Dad the whole story about Daisy and how she’d come to the centre seeking help. They only knew that I was helping her and that was all anyone needed to know.

Recognition lit his face. “Yeah. Daisy, right?”

“That’s right. Well, I won’t be seeing her anymore. Dad, I think I finally got through to her. I feel…” I paused, taking a breath.

“Relieved?” he said, shooting me a knowing look.

“Yeah, relieved. How did you…?”

He didn’t answer me, but the expression on his face caused me to pause what I was saying because I got it. He knew because that was exactly how he and Mum had felt when everything came to the surface of my mind. When I remembered everything. They’d felt relief that I was going to be okay.

“Dad?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Why wasn’t I happy? I mean, later on? I was miserable, wasn’t I?”

“You were never an unhappy person, Lola. In fact, you were quite the opposite. Your smile could light up the darkest of rooms, and that laugh…”

God, really? I hated my laugh. It sounded more like a group of hyenas.

“Well, let’s just say it was infectious.” He grinned. “As you got older, something changed. At first we thought it was just your age, being a teenager and all, but we soon realised that wasn’t the case. You were hungry—hungry for life and experience. You wanted more for yourself. A lot more than Deakins had to offer. I guess you made yourself believe that you could never have what you craved so much, so you became deflated. You always wanted what was best for others, never really caring about the sacrifice you would have to make in order to do that. You never let on, though. You carried on smiling and that laugh still continued. But we knew. Your mum, Austin, and I—we could see that you were afraid of disappointing. But we could also see how terrified you were of change. Unless we pushed you, I don’t think you would ever have made the choice to leave.”

I let the weight of my shoulders fall as I sighed heavily.

“We knew that Deakins would never be enough for you, so when Austin came to us and told us what we already knew, it was obvious what we had to do. After the accident, and after we realised what we could have lost that night, we did everything in our power to give you a life and the freedom to make your own choices. You deserved that.”

I smiled at that. They had loved me enough to put themselves through all of that for me when they could have so easily taken the easy route.

“It was the easiest decision we’ve ever made. The hardest was lying to you about the reasons for as long as we did. For that, Lola, I’m truly sorry.”

Wow.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely.

“For lying to you?”

“No, for being my dad and for allowing me to live my dreams. Even if they didn’t turn out the way they were supposed to.”

“Your dream isn’t over. It’s just beginning,” he said, pressing a finger to the tip of my nose.

“I hope you’re right, Dad,” I admitted.

“I am. Just wait and see.”

As I flicked through the pictures again, I remembered a conversation I’d had with Doctor Jacobs one afternoon. I had just left Winslow Falls and was falling into a depression that I had been struggling to pull myself out of. After everything with Taylor and coming to terms with the accident, I had been a mess. Every day was a struggle, and as the mornings rolled into evenings, I was beginning to realise that I couldn’t be that person anymore. I couldn’t allow the past to control me. I had to get up, dust away the unhappy thoughts and concentrate on my future again. I’d taken up running as an outlet, mainly because I was afraid that staying inside all the time was seriously damaging my waistline. I’d bumped into him one afternoon while I was on one of my many runs and he’d mentioned that the Community Centre he worked at part time was becoming busier than ever. Sensing the sudden rut I was in, he asked if I’d like to help. He’d explained that at first I’d need to find my way around the place, to get a feel for what it was all about. I’d mainly be helping out with the admin and the social media side of things, but that eventually he’d put me through a full training course so I would finish with a NVQ in Social Care.

It sounded great. Maybe even too good to be true. I questioned his intentions.

“What makes you think I’m the right person for the job? I have zero experience when it comes to helping others, not to mention my past issues. How could I possibly help someone when there was a time when I couldn’t help myself?” I asked him.

“That right there. That is exactly the reason why I think you would be perfect for the centre. These kids don’t want to hear some unknown person preaching to them, telling them why they’re feeling the way they are when they have no idea how that person is feeling to begin with. That’s what separates you from the others, Lola. You know what it feels like when your whole world feels like it’s crumbling down around you. Or when you wake up every morning questioning your place in life.”

Doctor Jacobs had been right all along. I would work my arse off at the centre and I would do whatever it was I needed to do in order to gain control of my life. After all, no one but myself could control the path I was heading down.

No one but me.