Chapter 3

The next afternoon, James picked me up from the hospital.

The moment I pushed open the door, I thought I'd walked into the wrong place.

The house was filled with all sorts of lifelike stuffed dogs.

Every painting on the walls had been replaced with close-ups of dogs.

"Welcome home."

James pressed the remote in his hand.

The speaker in the corner immediately started playing barking.

"Woof, woof, woof!"

Realistic surround sound filled the entire living room.

My whole body went rigid, and cold sweat broke out.

The wound on my right leg throbbed faintly.

"Turn it off! Turn it off now!"

I braced myself against the wall, my voice shaking.

His fingertips gently wiped the cold sweat from my temple.

"This is the gentle at-home intervention Myrtle suggested."

"Jasmine, be good. You need to get used to this sound."

The barking from the speaker grew louder and louder.

I could barely breathe, and my stomach churned.

I shoved James away, grabbed a vase from beside me, and smashed it hard against the speaker.

The vase shattered.

But the speaker was untouched, still blasting its piercing barks.

"Jasmine!"

James strode over.

He wrenched my arms behind my back and pinned me down on the sofa.

"Have you lost your mind? You'll hurt yourself doing this."

"Do you realize you have manic tendencies right now? You have to get treatment."

The lock turned.

My father walked in, leading a live puppy.

My pupils shrank, my breathing came fast, and my whole body convulsed beyond my control.

James frowned slightly.

"Dad, why did you bring it here?"

My father brought the dog over to my side.

"Myrtle said desensitization should be done gradually, so let's start with a puppy."

James sighed, let go of me, and got up to take the leash from my father's hand.

He turned to look at me and pointed to the end of the hallway.

"Go to the bathroom."

I backed away frantically.

"No... I won't go!"

James came over and slid an arm around my waist.

He half-carried, half-dragged me toward the bathroom.

"This is for your own good!"

"Just stay ten minutes and get along with it."

I struggled wildly.

My father came over and, together with James, held me down.

"Be brave and give it a pat. It's not that scary."

The two of them worked together to shove me and the dog into the bathroom.

The puppy walked toward me.

Its nose touched my ankle.

"Ah!"

I screamed and scrambled up onto the sink counter, curling into a ball.

Myrtle's voice came from outside the door.

"Uncle, James, move aside a little. I want to record a video to document this."

"This is extremely valuable as early-stage intervention footage."

Through the frosted glass door, I could see three blurry figures outside.

They stood together, savoring my breakdown.

In that instant, my scream suddenly caught in my throat.

I stared at that door.

Standing outside were my father, the husband I once loved dearly, and my close best friend.

They thought this was love. They thought this was salvation.

With the most self-righteous cruelty, they had stripped me of every last bit of my dignity.

I slowly closed my mouth.

The trembling in my body stopped, as if by a miracle.

The talking outside the door stopped.

A hint of panic and confusion crept into James's voice.

"Why has Jasmine gone quiet?"

My father answered.

"It's starting to work."

Ten minutes later, the lock clicked open.

James pushed the door open eagerly.

Seeing me sitting quietly on the sink counter, his tense shoulders relaxed.

He turned and smiled at my father.

"Dad, see? Myrtle's method works."

Myrtle held up her phone and aimed it at me.

"Jasmine, you did great! You overcame it!"

James strode over and pulled me into his arms.

"I knew my Jasmine was the bravest."

"See, it wasn't really that hard, was it?"

I kept my head down.

"Yeah... it wasn't that hard."