"It seems I've wasted a lot of this precious tea before." Maureen's laugh was soft, a little self-deprecating.
"My father was half-Seres. He taught me the basics when I was a kid," Jack said, though this body carried none of those features anymore.
To his surprise, Maureen didn't dig into the shooting. She didn't probe his past either. Instead, their talk drifted — books, music, food. For an hour, it felt less like a therapy session and more like two friends finding common ground.
When Jack finally stepped out of the EAP counseling center, he was dazed. Somehow, he'd walked in for mandatory counseling and walked out with… an invitation to her home.
A therapist who wants me over for tea? That's not in the handbook.
Driving home, he wondered if he should start reading psychology manuals himself — level it up like any other skill. But his thoughts evaporated the moment he stepped through the door.
Hannah sat cross-legged in front of the TV, game controller in hand. When she spotted him, she dropped it and bounded over, looping her arms through his. Her big eyes blinked up at him, filled with wordless worry.
Jack ruffled her hair. "I'm fine. Better than fine. Someday I'll be steadier than you. Three years on the job and you still haven't fired a shot."
Hannah stuck her tongue out. "You just survive your rookie year first. I'll be a sergeant soon."
"That's great. Any word on the FBI application?"
She shook her head, expression falling. "They say it could take a year."
"Then let's grind it out together," Jack said with a grin. "I'll re-enroll in community college next week. Two more years for a bachelor's degree. Pays a lot better too—close to a hundred grand a year."
Her mood brightened instantly, but he quickly added: "By the way, we're heading to Huashang Market tonight. Need groceries. We'll have a guest tomorrow—my therapist."
Hannah narrowed her eyes. "Let me guess. Another beautiful woman."
Jack coughed. "Average. Nowhere near you."
That evening, they stopped at Central Hospital to visit Tim Bradford.
Tim was already propped up in bed, haggard but full of fight, arguing with a nurse about discharge papers. Hannah leaned in with a grin and snapped a selfie beside him.
Grey Sloan herself appeared, recognizing Jack at once. After learning he was LAPD, she explained Tim's condition with clinical enthusiasm.
Selby's bullet had slipped past his vest but missed the vitals by a miracle. Three days of rest, she said, and he'd be back on his feet.
Jack glanced at Tim's worn face, older than his years. The wound wasn't what weighed him down. It was his broken family, the wife lost to addiction. Jack made a quiet note to himself: he'd find a way to help Tim down the line. A good partner in this job was worth more than gold.
The next day brought another surprise: Dr. Maureen Cahill arrived for lunch, with Zoe at her side.
The two women filled his living room with laughter and bright chatter, leaving Jack to sweat nervously in the kitchen. If Hannah had been home too, he might not have survived three sharp-eyed women under one roof.
Lunch was simple but elegant: kale in oyster sauce, scrambled eggs with tomato, stuffed peppers, broccoli in broth, and a ham-and-mushroom soup. Maureen struggled with chopsticks, Zoe didn't, and both praised his cooking with genuine delight.
When Zoe finally found a quiet moment alone with him, she brushed her lips against his cheek. "Our monthly agreement still stands. But you broke it first, so now I get to break it too. Fair's fair."
Jack smirked, but she hushed him with another kiss.
"Don't worry. Maureen's my best friend. I've told her about you for a long time. Fate just… connected the dots."
When the two women left, Jack collapsed onto the sofa. If Zoe said Maureen was trustworthy, maybe he could confide in her about the adrenaline problem. He couldn't ignore it. If he kept spiraling, if Zoe wasn't around to ground him, who knew what he might do?
But Hannah complicated things too. Every time he thought about her, he hesitated. He'd always prided himself on never leading a woman on, never cheating, never playing two sides. Now here he was, teetering on the edge of becoming a scumbag.
He exhaled hard. Enough. No more circles.
He summoned the system menu in his mind. Selby's death had earned him 50 points. Traffic tickets added a few more, the lesbian burglary case five more. His bar ticked past 100 again. Balance: 2 system coins.
Upgrade Mental Strength to 20?
Jack hovered, then clicked OK.
The screen pulsed. His head cleared. His thoughts sharpened like glass.
Whatever came next, he was ready.
(End of Chapter 9)