It had been a month since the police station.

Since the photos. The burnt house. The silence that followed.

No strange messages. No shadows in her periphery. No one reaching out except Detective Harris, who kept her updated on what they'd found. Which, frustratingly, was nothing useful. They were just going around in circles or someone was making them do it. Whoever was messing with them was an Einstein.

And Christian who checked in more than he probably needed to.

He knew everything. Every morning, he'd meet her at the bakery and they'd talk for hours while she helped Martha with the bakery. Sometimes they'd go back to his place to play board games, or just lie around in comfortable silence. Other days, she'd take care of his dog while he ran errands. Then, without fail, he'd walk her back to the cabin and make the quiet return trip home alone.

Every night, without missing a beat, he called to make sure she was okay.

Now, the scent of lavender clung to the therapist's office like a quiet promise.
Soft. Reassuring.

A world away from charred wood and unanswered questions.

The only sound in the room was the ticking of the wall clock.

Dr. Mireille sat across from her, legs crossed, pen resting idly against a notebook she rarely wrote in.

She always said, "I don't need to write down what I can remember."

Natalya still wasn't sure whether that was comforting or unnerving.

"You've been quiet today," Dr. Mireille said gently, her voice like warm tea on a cold morning.

Natalya shrugged, her eyes lingering on the soft swirl of lavender mist rising from the diffuser.

"It's just been... the same. Nothing's happened."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't know," she admitted after a pause. "I think I'm waiting for the silence to break again. Like something's hiding behind it."

Dr. Mireille nodded, thoughtful. "You mentioned that before. The feeling of being watched even when no one's around. Is it still happening?"

Natalya hesitated. "No... not really. But the feeling hasn't left me either. Like my nerves are still waiting for something to jump."

The therapist leaned forward slightly, voice low. "And the nightmares?"

"Still there," Natalya whispered. "Not as often, but they're always the same. I'm on a road. I'm running. Someone's calling me, but I never see their face. It's always just... out of reach."

Dr. Mireille hummed softly. "The road again."

A minute of silence stretched, filled only by the steady ticking of the clock. Natalya stared at the diffuser, watching the vapor curl and vanish into the air like smoke from a distant fire.

Then Dr. Mireille's voice broke the stillness, gentle and patient.
"How was your past week, Natalya? Did you enjoy it? Or did you do anything exciting?"

Natalya blinked, slowly shifting her gaze to meet the therapist's calm expression. "It was... okay," she said after a moment. "I learned how to make butter croissants. Martha taught me. She said mine turned out better than hers, but I think she was just being kind." A faint smile touched her lips. "And Christian took me hiking. It was a fun week."

Dr. Mireille smiled softly. "That does sound like a good week."

Natalya nodded. "It was. The hike helped. The quiet... the trees... it felt different. Peaceful. Christian didn't say much, which was actually nice. I didn't have to pretend I was fine."

"You don't have to pretend here either," Dr. Mireille reminded her gently.

"I know," Natalya murmured.

The therapist leaned in slightly. "When you were baking, did anything feel familiar? Like something your hands remembered? Or anything at all?"

Natalya hesitated, glancing down at her hands in her lap. "Yeah. A little. When I was brushing the butter between the layers... I don't know. It felt easy. Like I'd done it a thousand times before. It didn't feel like learning. It felt like remembering."

Dr. Mireille gave a thoughtful nod. "That's important. Sometimes the body holds memories the mind has locked away. It's a good sign, like a door that's beginning to open. Well done Natalya.."

"Thank you, Doctor," Natalya responded, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "And would you like me to bring you croissants on my next visit?"

Dr. Mireille's face lit up with a genuine laugh, her eyes twinkling. "Sure, why not? In fact, I was going to ask if you could bring me some over. Maybe not just croissants, perhaps... you could bake something new the next week?"

Natalya chuckled, the idea of bringing something new making her feel lighter, like a small, personal victory. "Alright, I'll surprise you. Maybe I'll try something I've never baked before."

Dr. Mireille's smile softened as she leaned back in her chair, her tone warm. "I look forward to it. You're doing great, Natalya."

Natalya felt a brief surge of pride before the weight of everything else crept back into her thoughts. But for now, she allowed herself to bask in the rare moment of ease, the air in the room smelling of lavender and possibility.

Dr. Mireille smiled warmly, her voice gentle. "I think that would be a lovely idea, Natalya. But how about this . Why don't you follow me? I've got a small selection of games in the other room. It could be a nice change of pace."

She stood up from her chair, gesturing for Natalya to follow. "A little shift of focus can sometimes work wonders."

Natalya, a bit surprised by the sudden shift, stood and followed Dr. Mireille out of the room.

Dr. Mireille led the way through the office, opening a door that led into a cozy, well-lit room. It was small, but warm, with shelves filled with books and a few game boards neatly stacked on a side table.

A small, comfortable couch rested against one wall, and the window overlooked a quiet garden. The soft, almost nostalgic hum of life outside seemed to complement the peaceful atmosphere inside.

"Here we are," Dr. Mireille said, turning to Natalya with a smile. "I find that sometimes, a simple game can help clear the mind. Something light, with no pressure."

Natalya looked around, her fingers brushing over the edges of a few familiar games. She spotted a Scrabble set and a classic chess board, then her eyes landed on a colorful set of dominoes. It felt like a different world in here. A world that was simpler and free of the heavy questions and fears that had been pressing on her for so long.

"Which one do you want to play?" Dr. Mireille asked, pulling a chair from the table and sitting down. "I have a soft spot for Scrabble, but I'm open to anything."

Natalya took a deep breath, her gaze flicking between the games. There was something strangely comforting about the simplicity of it all, no hidden agendas, no pressure. Just a game. She finally chose the dominoes, feeling an odd sense of relief at making such a small, uncomplicated decision.

"Dominoes it is," Dr. Mireille said, setting up the game. "This one's quick, and it's all about matching up, not thinking too hard."

As they began playing, the room seemed to settle around them. The ticking of the clock, the soft clink of the dominoes against the table, and the occasional hum of a car driving by outside all of it blended together into a peaceful rhythm that calmed Natalya's racing thoughts.

It wasn't solving her problems, but for the first time in a long while, she wasn't thinking about the past, or the mystery of what had happened to her. It was just the here and now.

And for that moment, it was enough.

After the game, Natalya could feel the weight of the session easing off her shoulders, her mind a little clearer. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. As she placed the last domino down, she couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of relief.

Dr. Mireille smiled, clearly pleased with the way the session had shifted. "See? Sometimes it's the small, simple things that make a difference. How do you feel now?"

Natalya leaned back in her chair, a faint smile on her lips. "Better. Lighter, I think. It's strange how just... disconnecting for a while helps."

"Exactly," Dr. Mireille agreed, gently folding her hands. "Therapy isn't just about diving into the heavy stuff; it's also about finding those moments of peace. You've been doing a lot of heavy lifting emotionally. Sometimes, it's about finding balance. Allowing yourself to have those light moments."

Natalya nodded, reflecting on what the therapist had said. It was easy to get caught up in the chaos of her life, the unanswered questions, the haunting fear that something dark was just around the corner. But there were still moments of lightness. And maybe, just maybe, those moments were the key to holding it all together.

"Thank you," Natalya said softly. "I didn't realize how much I needed this until now."

Dr. Mireille gave her a warm, understanding look. "You're welcome, Natalya. And remember, healing is a journey. You're doing great."

After a few more minutes of quiet conversation about the game and her progress, they wrapped up the session.

As Natalya stood to leave, Dr. Mireille smiled and added, "I'm looking forward to those croissants next time. And maybe you'll surprise me with something new, who knows?"

Natalya chuckled, feeling lighter than she had in a while. "I'll try. Maybe I'll even bake something different. See you next week Dr. Mireille."

As she walked out of the office, the world outside felt a little less daunting. For the first time in weeks, she didn't feel like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

As she stepped into the fresh air, she noticed Christian waiting for her by the entrance, his familiar, warm smile making her feel like maybe everything would be okay after all.

Word count- 1601