In life, timing is everything. If you don’t act quickly, opportunities slip by, and you may never reach your goal.
Now, Elena truly understood this truth.
She should have spoken to Director Grant about transferring the case to someone else the moment she got back to the office yesterday. But she hadn’t. And now, this morning, when she found out that Director Grant was away on a business trip, she realized she had no choice but to soldier on. At the firm, no one dared make decisions without Director Grant’s approval, and no one would disturb him while he was away, unless it was a dire emergency.
Unless she resigned. But she knew that would be a mistake. She would never find another job like this, and she couldn’t betray Director Grant, who had given her this chance.
Her mind was in turmoil, and last night’s nightmares hadn’t helped. She didn’t know what to do. In the past, whenever she was in such a state, she would visit her free psychologist for some relief. So, she decided to take her lunch break and go see him.
Thomas Light, 31, was the doctor at the psychology clinic on the 14th floor. He had a tall, sharp appearance, but his eyes were gentle and clear, like a deer’s, creating an instinctive sense of trust. They had become friends after she helped him win his divorce case, and because they worked in the same building. More importantly, his warm, reassuring presence made him a friend she could turn to.
“Another sleep paralysis episode?” he asked, noticing her scattered expression.
“Psychologists can be so annoying. I should never have told you anything. Can’t you just pretend you don’t know?”
“It seems I was right, then. Sleep paralysis,” Thomas Light teased, leaning back in his chair. “But hey, it’s lunch break, and I’m not your therapist right now.”
“You wear your ‘friend’ title like a badge, part-time ‘free’ therapist too.”
“Oh? And what else is written on my face?”
“It says that Elena West can do whatever she wants.”
“In that case... fine! I’m taking you to lunch. There’s a Chinese restaurant around the corner downstairs—cheap and authentic. Let’s go!”
He understood her. In fact, understanding others was his job. But for Elena, his care went beyond professional duty; he liked her as a friend. He knew that in crowded, noisy places, she could relax and return to her livelier, more spirited self. It was good for her mental well-being. Her stress had been piling up, especially after she took on the sensational case that had shaken the entire city. He wanted to help her.
“What should I do? I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I’ve got wrinkles now,” she said as they sat in a corner of the noisy Chinese restaurant, eating and talking.
“Don’t worry too much. Statistics show that about 40% of people have some form of sleep disorder. What people call ‘sleep paralysis’ is just one type of it,” Thomas Light reassured her. He did have some unscientific suspicions about her situation, but he didn’t want to frighten her without more evidence.
“Does that mean I should check my heart?” Elena asked, tears streaming from her eyes as the ramen’s spiciness hit her.
“According to science, sleep paralysis is usually caused by poor sleeping posture, which affects blood circulation. Regular health check-ups are a good habit, but... I hope you haven’t troubled him again, have you?”
“Yeah, I have.” Elena nodded. “It’s not intentional. But whenever things get really bad, I just blurt out that prayer.”
“I told you from the beginning, you’re too sensitive, and you're easily affected by negative energy. But when you’re pushed to your limits, you do show courage. It’s like you always end up being protected, no matter how bad things get,” Thomas Light joked lightly, trying not to give Elena any negative psychological cues. He was genuinely concerned, though. Based on his previous experience, frequent episodes of sleep paralysis and nightmares like Elena’s often preceded something dangerous. She might not realize it, but it always felt like something had intervened to protect her. But this time—would the outcome be the same as before? Could it be connected to the case she was working on?
“What are you talking about? You’re a medical professional, not some fortune-teller. Be careful with your stance!”
“You know, about eighty percent of the greatest scientists believe in the existence of God, so science and spiritual belief are not mutually exclusive. Personally, I prefer logical things, but I’m not completely dismissive of irrational phenomena,” Thomas responded with a grin.
“Nice speech. But do you really believe in demons?” Elena asked frankly, not concerned about the noisy crowd around them.
“Demons? Is this connected to your case?” Thomas Light raised an eyebrow. “Or are you just guessing?”
Elena hesitated for a moment.
“I shouldn’t be discussing the case with someone who’s not involved, but you’re my psychologist, so it should be fine,” she justified, then proceeded to tell him everything that had happened the previous day, as well as the feelings she had been experiencing.
“If you really dislike handling this case so much, why force yourself? It’s not fair to you or to your client. Why not let someone else take over?” Thomas suggested. He believed Elena but also knew she was very sensitive, so he couldn’t rule out the possibility that her judgment might be clouded. The best solution, in his mind, was for someone with a strong constitution to take on this bloody case. He also knew that it wouldn’t be hard to find someone willing to handle it, given the case’s public attention. Despite the lack of financial gain, the publicity would be massive. In fact, he had overheard some of the people at Silverstone Law Firm discussing it. They believed that taking on this case wasn’t a bad thing, since it would bring high exposure, win or lose. It seemed unfair that Director Grant had given it to Elena, who many considered to be a “deadweight” in the firm.
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“I thought about talking to Director Grant this morning, but then he left on a last-minute business trip. I’m so unlucky! And it’s hard to bring it up now. I feel like I’d be letting him down. Doesn’t he want to nurture me?” Elena sighed, slurping her soup without caring about her image. “I’m just so conflicted. Even if I had already spoken to him, I’d still feel like I made the wrong choice. It’s hard to avoid regret when you’re faced with such decisions.”
“It’s normal to think that another option might have been better. You don’t need to feel guilty,” Thomas reassured her.
“So what should I do? Should I keep going or give up now?”
“It’s not about giving up or holding on. It’s about whether you really want to continue. If you force yourself, things will just get worse. Director Grant isn’t gone forever,” Thomas said, speaking from the perspective of a friend.
“But the trial is almost here!” Elena said, frustration creeping into her voice. “Honestly, I’m leaning toward giving up. Does that make me weak? But I’m really scared of the next meeting. Yet I can’t just do nothing. That would be irresponsible to Lucas Graves and ungrateful to Director Grant.”
Thomas gave her hand a comforting pat. “Why do you even need to meet with him again?”
“Because the last time, he didn’t say anything. How can I defend him without understanding his side? I need to hear what he says about that night and know what kind of legal relief he’s hoping for! Actually—” Elena paused, then continued, “I think we should request a new mental health evaluation after the trial begins.”
“I read about it in the news. Apparently, he’s been deemed mentally unstable but not insane. Maybe his outburst yesterday was just an act, trying to manipulate you into helping him avoid punishment?” Thomas speculated.
Elena shook her head without hesitation.
Yesterday’s experience had been too vivid for her to entertain any idea of it being an act. She rolled up the sleeve that covered her wrist, revealing the deep bruising that was already visible. “Look, this is from yesterday. He grabbed me. With his physical strength, unless he had some kind of demonic energy, there’s no way I’d be injured this badly. Besides, if he was a normal person, how could he be so brutal? And to his own family?”
“The human mind is the most complex thing in the world,” Thomas said, gently touching the bruise on her wrist. “When the mind is unwell, it’s much more troublesome than anything else.”
“So, from your professional perspective, how likely is it that he’s faking or has a real mental illness?”
“I’m just a psychologist! I can handle general mental health issues. But when it comes to mental illness, that’s a different matter. What we call ‘mental illness’ typically refers to severe psychiatric conditions, like schizophrenia or paranoia. Forensic psychiatry is a specialized field, and the clinical signs are very complex. Just thinking someone has it based on their behavior isn’t enough.”
“I know not just anyone can diagnose that. I just want to know how to prove whether he’s actually ill or not!”
“It’s very complicated and difficult. For example, we’d observe his behavior, his cognitive abilities, emotions, even physical condition. We’d also review his family history, his writings, and his behavior during detention. Only then can we form a comprehensive judgment. Another issue is ‘impulse control disorder,’ where the person has the capacity to recognize their actions but loses control over them—something that happens in severe mania or schizophrenia. In such cases, extra caution is required to ensure everything aligns with medical standards.”
“Really? I’ll have to look into that more,” Elena said, feeling the weight of the decision weighing on her.
“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to quit?” Thomas reminded her, almost sarcastically.
“I do want to quit. But before Director Grant comes back, I can’t just sit idly by. At the very least, I need to lay a solid foundation for whoever takes over.”
“I didn’t expect you to be so kind.”
“It’s not about kindness. I still need to keep my job at Silverstone, so I can’t afford to mess things up.” Elena snapped back, but then fell silent, thinking about the case. “Aside from his extreme behavior when he was first detained, he seemed to almost accept his guilt. He’s well-educated—he knows the consequences. Yet, he didn’t try to defend himself. Why did he suddenly become so agitated yesterday, begging for my help? This doesn’t add up! Unless he really does have a mental illness, or—” Elena paused, her eyes narrowing, “Or unless there really is something supernatural going on.”
Elena shivered involuntarily as she finished her sentence. Thomas Light noticed her reaction and reached out to tap her forehead, gently bringing her back to the present moment.
She was too susceptible to psychological suggestions, and that was her biggest weakness.
She was still questioning the idea of demons and supernatural forces, but Thomas knew better. He had experienced things that defied explanation, things that science couldn’t touch. He knew there were forces at work that went beyond the physical world. To protect Elena, he needed to find a way to help her. He wasn’t sure how to solve this himself, but he could reach out to someone who might be able to. After thinking it over for a long time, he finally made up his mind.
Only that person could help Elena.
Though it pained him to ask for such a favor after years of friendship, he couldn’t just stand by and watch Elena sink deeper into this mystery. He lowered his head and wrote down a name on a piece of paper, then handed it to Elena.
“What’s this? Sebastian Novak—The Night Walker Bar—address—” Elena looked up in confusion. “Thomas, what are you doing? Is this your idea of setting me up on a date? What, is he better than you? I don’t want anyone worse than you.”
“Come on, we’ve been friends for years. I’m not trying to introduce you to anyone to mess with you,” Thomas chuckled. “Just be careful—don’t get too enchanted by him.”
“Ugh!”
“Stop acting all huffy!”
“Then why are you even giving me this name? Is he tangled up in some legal trouble that you want me to help with? You know, if it’s a consultation, I can assist, but if it’s a lawsuit, he’ll have to contact the firm. Our professional code of ethics doesn’t allow us to take private cases.”
“Can you at least let me finish talking?” Thomas smiled at Elena's impatience, amused. It was part of what he liked about her—so different from the so-called elite professionals in this high-rise building, with all their sterile efficiency. Elena had a warmth to her, a realness.
“He’s not in trouble. The bar he owns—The Night Walker Bar—I’m introducing him to you because I think you should go see him.”
“So, you’re saying he’s unusually handsome?”
“No. I’m saying he’s clairvoyant.”
“Clairvoyant?” Elena blinked, caught off guard. “Is this for real? Or did I hear you wrong? Are you joking?”
“You didn’t hear wrong. I’m not joking.” Thomas stopped Elena from reaching out to touch his forehead. “I’m not feverish. Careful! Your scarf fell into the soup.”
“So, why would you suddenly tell me this? Aren’t you the one who hates those street fortune-tellers and so-called mystics? Remember how you used to mock me whenever we watched a movie like this, or when we’d see a street reader outside a temple?”
“I mocked them because I know what a real spiritualist is like.”
“Really?”
“Really, really!”
“No kidding?”
“I swear on my ex-wife’s name—fine, fine, I swear on my academic reputation.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“He’s the kind of guy who hates being bothered. I was worried you’d start asking him to read your fortune or something. Also—” Thomas’ expression shifted, becoming serious. “His abilities are a secret. If it weren’t for this case being so strange, and you being my friend, I wouldn’t have mentioned him at all. If there’s really a demon involved, go to him for help, though there’s no guarantee he’ll agree to help.” Thomas looked at Elena seriously. “Elena, can I trust you with this?”
“You can trust me completely,” Elena replied, her voice firm.
Sebastian Novak? A strange name. A clairvoyant? A strange man. Elena couldn’t help but feel a mix of disbelief and curiosity. What was going on here? She wasn’t sure if she was ready to dive deeper into this world of the unknown, but she felt that something—maybe even someone—was pulling her closer to the edge of something she couldn’t yet see.