The Therapist

The office was quiet, lit with the soft glow of a single lamp. Pale greys and off-whites wrapped the space in calm, the kind of calm carefully arranged to help people breathe a little easier. Everything had its place. Nothing felt too sharp or too soft. But beneath it all, something buzzed. Not loud. Just enough for the air to feel too still.

Isabella Hart sat across from her last client of the day. She looked composed, calm in her charcoal blazer, her round glasses slipping slightly down her nose. She didn’t move much. She didn’t need to. The young woman across from her, Alice, was barely holding it together. Early twenties. Thin sweater. Hands twisting a worn tissue into tighter and tighter knots.

"It’s okay, Alice," Isabella said gently. Her voice had that steady warmth that made people want to trust her. "You can take your time."

Alice’s shoulders shook. She pressed the tissue hard between her palms. “I keep seeing him,” she whispered. “Everywhere. Reflections. Windows. I can’t make him stop.”

Isabella nodded slowly. She saw more than words. She saw the bruises at the edges of Alice’s sleeves. The look in her eyes said sleep hadn’t come easily in weeks. She leaned in just a little, like she was pulling the moment closer.

“You’re safe here,” she said. “This room is yours. Right now, nothing can reach you.”

Alice looked up. Her eyes were raw. “But men like him,” she said, voice thin. “They always find a way. They’re rich. Connected. People look away.”

The word sat there. Connected. It was a different way of saying untouchable. Isabella knew the word well. It weighed it. It reminded her why she worked the hours she did—and why, at night, she became someone else.

When the session ended, Isabella helped Alice to the door.

“You’re stronger than you think,” she said. “More than he’ll ever be.”

Once the door clicked shut, Isabella exhaled. Her shoulders dropped. She crossed the room and sat at her desk, pulling open a locked drawer. Inside was a slim laptop, different from her usual one. She opened it. The screen glowed to life. She took a breath. Then she started typing.

Tonight, the Lantern shines on Marcus Langford. Public darling. Private monster. For too long, his victims have been silenced. That ends now.

Her fingers moved fast. She’d written these kinds of posts before. Each one came with the same rush. The same knot in her stomach. But it mattered. Every word mattered. The post went live. And for a moment, she felt steady again.

Then an email pinged into her inbox. No name. Just a subject line:

A Truth You Need

She opened it.

Marcus Langford is just a symptom. The real rot is Adrian Blackwood’s Rehabilitation Society. A front. Built on control and silence. We have proof. Expose him, and you’ll pull the whole thing down.

Isabella froze. Adrian Blackwood. A name she’d heard, but only in whispers. One of the richest men in the city. Private. Respected and rumoured to own more than one building. He owned silence. She stared at the screen. Then her phone rang.

Withheld number.

She let it ring once. Then answered.

“Miss Hart,” said a low voice. Clear. Calm. No accent she could place. Just confidence. “Your post on Langford was bold. But not enough.”

“Who is this?”

“A friend,” the voice said. “Langford is the tip. Blackwood is the blade. Keep going, and the real story begins.”

“You trying to scare me?” she asked.

“No,” the voice replied. “Just preparing you.”

The line went dead. Isabella stared at the phone for a few seconds. Then she packed up. Laptop. Phone. Bag. She didn’t wait. She didn’t look around. She left the office, stepping into the hallway, then outside into the London night.

It was cold—the wind bit at her face. Lights blurred in the wet streets. The city hummed around her, fast and full of secrets. She pulled her coat tighter.

Her phone buzzed again.

48 hours. If you’re in, say so. You’ll need help. Are you ready?

She stood under a streetlamp. The light made everything feel sharper.

She typed:

I’m ready.

Then she slipped the phone back into her pocket and walked.

Tonight, she hadn’t just exposed someone else’s truth.

She’d stepped into something bigger. And she wasn’t backing down.

Whatever the cause may be or how far she has to go, she will do anything to reveal this sinful society that just throws money at the cause and takes anything they want, anything they desire. She is so desperate that she will do anything to give justice between the evil and the good.