His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 216

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.”

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

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

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

I asked, looking up at

he replied. “He specializes in post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. His methods are a bit… out

brow. “What sort of methods are you referring

of a fringe science, but his clients have all had very good results

in my hand. Hypnotherapy… It wasn’t exactly something that I had ever thought of

…

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

me the milk and holding her hand out for me to take the two

as I pointed nervously at

just your sleeping medicine,” she replied. “Some rest will do you some good

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

a drawn and tired look on her face. But before she could leave, I suddenly sat up and called after

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