Dr. Zielinski sat back from his desk, steepled his fingers in front of his face, and sighed. “Right,” he said.
Jayden fidgeted. Darren did nothing; he was a little better than yesterday, but only marginally. Getting him out of bed to come to the doctor had been a struggle, and they had only not argued because Jayden was so worried. Darren’s episodes were savage, worse now than they had been when they were teenagers, and Jayden was slowly losing the ability to stop them.
“I am in a difficult position here,” the doctor said after a little while. “Given Darren’s medical history—and especially the suicidal history—I am not particularly happy about starting a course of anti-depressants without some kind of observation set in place…”
“No,” Darren said flatly.
The doctor nodded once and conti
