The mate of his nanny final

Chapter 216: Worried Sick

Moana

"Moana... What happened?" Selina asked as she looked around at the mess in my room with wide eyes. Scattered all around us were countless violent, graphic drawings that I somehow scribbled out in an unconscious state, even though I had absolutely no recollection of any of it. I didn't know how to respond, because I didn't even know what happened. All I could do was stand there, frozen, and stare at Selina.

Selina slowly came into my room and set the tray of food down. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

I nodded. As I did, I already felt that all- too-familiar sensation of hot tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. "I don't know what happened," I finally managed to say. "One moment I was just sitting in my bed and drawing in my sketchbook, and then it was like I blinked and my whole room was just covered in... whatever this is."

The old housekeeper looked around with a wide-eyed gaze for a moment. "I'm so sorry," I said quietly as I began to stoop to pick up all of the discarded papers. "I made a huge mess."

However, Selina just shook her head and took the papers out of my hands. She set them down beside the food and then guided me over to my bed. "I'm calling the doctor," she said. "Stay here."

Within half an hour, the doctor was standing by my bedside. Selina had already cleaned up all of the papers. She didn't say anything in particular about the contents of the violent and graphic images, but I could tell that she was deeply concerned by them. The doctor looked at a few after he took my vitals, and sighed.

"Your vitals are fine," he said gently as he flipped through the drawings. As he did, I felt my face go red from embarrassment. It did seem, at the very least, as though Selina hid away the drawings that were the most graphic to save my dignity, which I appreciated more than anything.
When the doctor was finished looking at the drawings, he handed them back to Selina and then gave me a worried look.

"I can only reiterate that you need to see a therapist," he said. He paused, then made a sound to himself under his breath and pulled out his notepad. I watched as he scribbled on the pad, then tore the piece of paper off and handed it to me. On it was a name and a phone number.

"What's this?" I asked, looking up at him.

"It's a therapist that I'd highly recommend," he replied. "He specializes in post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. His methods are a bit... out there, so to speak, but he's very good. I'd highly recommend giving him a call."

I furrowed my brow. "What sort of methods are you referring to?" I asked.

"Hypnotherapy, mostly," the doctor replied. "Some people see it as more of a fringe science, but his clients have all had very good results from what I've heard. Give it a try; you never know."

I nodded slowly as I held the paper firmly in my hand. Hypnotherapy... It wasn't exactly something that I had ever thought of trying, but I supposed that it wouldn't hurt any to give it a shot.

...

The doctor left after that. I thought I overheard him speaking in hushed tones to Selina outside of my room in the hallway, but I couldn't make out what was being said and I didn't have the physical or emotional energy to get up and try to eavesdrop. All I knew was that, five minutes later, the old housekeeper was coming back into my room with a glass of warm milk in one hand and two pills in the other.

"Here," she said, handing me the milk and holding her hand out for me to take the two round, pink pills.

"What are those?" I asked as I pointed nervously at the pills.

Selina shook her head. "It's just your sleeping medicine," she replied. "Some rest will do you some good right now, I think."

I nodded and took the pills. Selina was right; sleep was important right now. At the very least, if I was asleep I couldn't have another episode. I didn't even want to imagine what it would be like if I had another episode, especially if it happened in front of Ella. I didn't want to scare her after everything.

Once I finished taking the pills, Selina tucked me into my bed and headed back toward my door with a drawn and tired look on her face. But before she could leave, I suddenly sat up and called after her.

"You're not going to tell Edrick, are you?" I asked, feeling my heart start to race. If Edrick found out about this, he was certain to take it very poorly. What if he never wanted me to go back to work? What if he was even more scared of me now? What if he got too worried and became sick himself?

Selina slowly turned back around and gave me a stern look that told me everything I needed to know before she even opened her mouth; I had no say in this matter. No one could trust my mental state anymore, and therefore my opinions were invalid because of whatever sickness was taking over my brain. I felt helpless.

"He needs to know," she said, her voice low and even.

I felt my palms start to itch with anxiety as my eyes began to well up with tears again. "Please," I begged. "Please don't tell him. I don't want him to get worried —"

"That's enough, Moana!" The old housekeeper's voice was suddenly sharp and rigid, much like how she used to speak when I first moved in. For a moment, her body straightened and became hard as she gripped the handle of the door. My eyes widened slightly at her stern appearance, but after a moment, she let out a deep breath and relaxed once more. "He deserves to know the truth," she said gently. "I'm sorry, but we can't keep this from him. It's for your own good."

Before I could say anything else, the old housekeeper suddenly swung the door open and left. Sniffing, I sank back down into my bed and stared blankly up at the ceiling as all of the worst possible outcomes floated through my mind. I imagined Edrick coming home and hearing about my episode, seeing my horrible drawings, and immediately sending me off to a psychiatric facility. I imagined my baby being ripped away from me in a padded room because the doctors thought that I would be a danger to my own child.

I imagined Ella growing up thinking that I was a scary person, someone who only made a year of her childhood a living hell because I was constantly causing trouble or putting her in danger...

But then, the medicine quickly began to kick in. Everything suddenly started to feel warm and fuzzy as the ceiling began swirling and drifting above me, and nothing felt quite so bad anymore. In fact, everything just felt distant and foggy, like nothing but a bad dream.

Within minutes, I found myself floating off into a dreamless sleep without a care in the world.