Page 51 of Devil in Disguise

Danny needed help and if Dr. Walker was the best, then that’s what he would get.

The flight from New York City to Cheyenne, Wyoming was uneventful, thanks to the medication Dr. Robinette prescribed to help calm Danny down. Even so, every little movement, every shift in the plane’s hum, seemed to drive his mind deeper into the darkness—a darkness I felt reflected in the hollowed-out spaces behind his eyes. The pills masked his symptoms, but not the cause, and I felt a sickening guilt, an icy knot in my stomach.

This wasn’t a cure. It was a postponement, a cowardly delay in the inevitable confrontation with the truth.

His truth. And mine.

The drive from Cheyenne to Albin was long and quiet, as Danny slept restlessly, his breaths shallow, punctuated by the occasional whimper. I watched him, a captive audience to his silent suffering, as the quiet gnawed at me. The peaceful Wyoming landscape felt like a cruel mockery of the turmoil raging inside us both. I’d promised myself I’d be strong, that I’d handle this, that I’d fix him. But the weight of that promise, the crushing responsibility, felt like a physical burden.

By the time we reached Albin and the small house I rented, we were both exhausted. But the exhaustion was a different kind for each of us. His was physical, a consequence of his illness. Mine was the exhaustion of moral compromise. The shower offered no cleansing relief. The scent of the unfamiliar soap only amplified my self-loathing. We both needed food, but the thought of eating felt repulsive.

Dr. Walker’s arrival tomorrow felt not like a hope for a solution, but like a judgment day.

The truth was, I had already failed him, hadn’t I?

The next morning, the Wyoming sun shone brightly, but it did little to dispel the gloom that had settled over us. I felt a sense of dread as I prepared a meager breakfast, knowing that Dr. Walker’s arrival was imminent. Danny sat on the couch, his eyes vacant and unfocused, a ghost of the vibrant man he once was. I wanted to reach out and offer comfort, but the distance between us felt like an insurmountable chasm.

My hands trembled as I poured coffee, the clatter of the mug against the saucer breaking the oppressive silence. Danny flinched at the sound, and I saw the pain reflected in his eyes. I wanted to take it all back, to rewind time and prevent this suffering. But all I could do was stand there, feeling utterly helpless. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken words and emotions too raw to voice. I busied myself with trivial tasks, straightening chairs and wiping down counters that were already clean, anything to avoid facing the truth staring me down.

As the clock ticked closer to our appointment, my anxiety mounted. I knew that Dr. Walker’s arrival would force us to confront the reality of our situation. The weight of my promise to fix Danny felt like an anchor dragging me deeper into the abyss. I wanted to run, to escape the crushing responsibility, but there was nowhere to hide from the truth.

The sound of an engine pulling into the driveway broke the silence. Dr. Walker had arrived. I felt a surge of panic as the reality of our situation came crashing down on me. Danny seemed to sense it too, his eyes flickering toward the window, a spark of recognition in their depths.

I moved to the door, my legs feeling like lead, and opened it to greet the doctor. Her kind face and long hair pulled back in a long braid offered a small measure of comfort. Only she wasn’t alone.

“Hey, Dante,” Nav greeted warmly.

“I’m Dr. Walker,” the pretty woman said, her voice soft and reassuring. “But please, call me Haizley.”

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion as I looked at Nav. “Why are you here?”

“Because the giant oaf I am convinced is stalking me wouldn’t let me leave without an escort. Ignore him.”

Nav groaned. “I already told you, woman. None of the old ladies go anywhere without an escort.”

“Once again, I am not his old lady,” the pretty doctor huffed.

Stepping to the side, I let them both in as Danny remained seated on the couch, his gaze fixed on Nav. As Dr. Walker approached Danny, her eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and professional detachment. She set her bag down and turned to me.

“Why don’t you make us some tea?” she suggested. “I’d like to speak with Danny alone first.”

I wanted to protest, to stay by his side, but I knew she was right.

Nodding, I turned toward the kitchen, my heart heavy as I left them to their privacy, Nav following me.

The sound of the teakettle whistling broke the oppressive silence in the kitchen. As I poured the steaming water into the waiting mugs, I stole a glance towards the table.

Dr. Walker was leaning forward, her eyes locked with Danny’s. His face was a mask of conflicting emotions, his eyes darting between the doctor and the window, as if searching for an escape. My hands shook as I added honey to the tea, the sweet scent filling the air.

I wanted to believe that this would be the solution, that Dr. Walker held the key to unlocking Danny’s torment and setting him free.

“It’s going to be okay, Dante. The doc is good at what she does. You just need to give her time to do her thing.”

“Danny doesn’t have time. My phone has been blowing up since we left the city. I’ve had to turn it off because the notifications agitate him.”

“I will take care of that,” Nav said, sitting up. “Give me your phone.”

Doing as he said, I handed it over as I sat down.

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