Chapter 134 Anything Else But Pity

Chapter 134 Anything Else But Pity

I couldn't take my eyes off the hospital entrance because I was too shocked to believe it.

No, it can't be.

Maybe she hadn't checked herself in.

Maybe Brian and I had interpreted what we'd seen completely wrong or maybe there was another explanation to all of this.

There had to be.

I swallowed hard.

"Brian..."

He was still watching the hospital.

"Tell me you aren't thinking what I'm thinking." I mumbled.

He was quiet but that was more than enough answer.

I turned toward him.

"You said you found something about the pills."

Brian hesitated before reaching into his bag.

"I did." He said, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. "I took a picture of the container before we left."

I stared at the screen.

"I was able to identify the medication." He said as he scrolled down his phone. "It's a prescribed psychiatric medication."

His words reached my ears, but somehow refused to settle in my mind.

"What?"

Brian lowered his voice. "Psychiatric medication, Reet."

I shook my head. “I don’t want to believe it. Are you sure?” My fingers tightened around my notebook.

"Yes." He said firmly.

I looked toward the hospital again.

The entrance suddenly seemed different.

Not because anything had physically changed.

It was still the same building and felt a strange pressure building inside my chest.

"So she was taking them?" My question sounded stupid, but Brian nodded slowly.

"That's what it appears to be."

I looked at him. "But why would she hide them in another container?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

Then he looked at me. "Maybe she was hiding them from everyone. Besides, if someone found out, it'd come off as a weakness and she'd hate that."

I looked down.

Of course.

But I didn't know what to think anymore.

A part of me wanted Miranda to be the villain till the end because I didn't want to feel pity or sorry for her even in the slightest.

I wanted to be able to point at everything she'd done and say, There. That's who she is.

Instead, I was standing outside a psychiatric hospital wondering what had happened to her before I ever met her.

No, that was pity.

That was the exact thing I didn't want to feel for but I found myself asking questions that I didn't want to.

"Does this mean she has depression?" I asked quietly.

Brian looked at me carefully. "I don't know."

"But you said she's been taking psychiatric medications."

"That doesn't tell us exactly what she's being treated for."

I nodded slowly. "Right, you're right."

He continued. "Someone can receive psychiatric treatment for different reasons. We shouldn't guess her diagnosis just from medication."

I appreciated that because I realized how easy it would be to turn Miranda's struggles into another piece of gossip and it wouldn't be the right thing to do.

I looked at the hospital again. "So she's really been coming here..." I trailed off.

I frowned. "Does Dylan know yet?"

Brian shook his head. "I don't think so."

I closed my eyes briefly.

That thought hurt because Dylan had spent years believing he understood his family and now he'd discovered Miranda was his stepsister.

His father had kept secrets from him.

His family had been falling apart, and somewhere in the middle of all that, Miranda had apparently been struggling with something none of us had known about.

I opened my eyes. “Does this really change anything?"

Brian thought about it. "It sure changes what we know about her, not what she did."

I nodded slightly. “Right.”

That would be the right way to put it because I didn't want anyone using her mental health as an excuse for what she'd done to us and that includes me.

But at the same time, I didn't want to pretend that her struggles meant nothing.

I was still angry with her, but beneath the anger, I didn't want to fully acknowledge that something unfamiliar had begun to creep in.

"Brian..."

"Hmm?"

"What if she really is hurting?" I blurted.

Damn, my soft heart!

He looked at me. "Then she needs help, which she's clearly getting at the moment."

I swallowed.

A few seconds passed. "I don't exactly know what I'm supposed to feel, Brian." I admitted.

He gave me a small, tired smile. "I guess you don't have to know right now."

I nodded.

But my eyes remained fixed on the entrance.

By the time Dylan was discharged from the hospital, I had almost forgotten what it felt like to see him standing on his own two feet.

He still looked tired.

There was a slight stiffness in the way he moved, and the doctor had made it very clear that he needed to take things slowly. But he was out of the hospital, and somehow that alone made the world feel a little less frightening.

I walked beside him as we left the building.

For a while, neither of us said anything to each other.

But I kept glancing at him.

He noticed.

"You've been staring at me for five minutes."

I quickly looked away.

"I have not."

"You have."

"I was checking if you were okay."

Dylan gave me a faint smile. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure." I nodded, but I still wasn't convinced.

We reached the car, and Dylan paused before opening the door.

"Reet."

"Yeah?"

He looked at me. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Looking at me like I'm about to collapse."

I couldn't help smiling slightly. "Have you forgotten how much you scared me?"

His expression softened. "I'm sorry again."

I sighed. "We've already talked about this, so it's fine."

"I know. I just..." He looked away. "I still feel like I owe you a thousand apologies."

I didn't know what to say to that.

So I simply reached for his hand.

His fingers closed gently around mine.

The warmth of his palm made something inside me settle.

"No, you don't." I muttered under my breath.