Chapter 817:
Seeing my mother’s concern, I couldn’t help but try to comfort her.
“Mom, Betty has suffered a lot recently. She’ll need some time to recover. Don’t worry, she’ll be okay.”
“She misses Anne so much. Hank is being too unreasonable. I don’t know where his parents took Anne, but it’s clear they don’t want Betty to see her anymore.” My mother’s voice was filled with frustration.
“Mom, Betty chose to give up Anne’s upbringing, and she didn’t ask for alimony. When she divorced, she asked for a house and a large sum of money. It’s understandable that Hank’s family might not want Betty to see Anne,” I explained.
I also understood in my heart that Hank probably didn’t want Betty’s influence to affect Anne’s growth. Betty’s character was too extreme. If I were Anne’s father, I might have done the same thing.
“It’s true that Betty made some mistakes, but they can’t keep her away from her daughter forever. That’s too cruel,” my mother said with a frown.
While we were talking, the door to the consultation room opened, and Betty came out, holding Anne’s photo in her arms.
“Family members, please come in!” A man in a white coat called from the doorway.
“Ah, here we are,” my mother responded, gently guiding Betty to sit on a row of chairs in the corridor. Then she motioned for me to follow her into the consulting room.
Sitting across from the doctor, he spoke carefully to both my mother and me.
“After my assessment, I can tell you that the patient appears to have severe depression.”
“Depression?” My mother and I exchanged a worried glance, and my heart sank.
We had all heard of depression. It’s a condition where patients feel persistently unhappy and may even have suicidal tendencies, unable to function normally.
“Doctor, does she need treatment? Is there any hope for a cure?” I asked, my voice shaky with concern.
My mother asked eagerly. The doctor hesitated for a moment before responding, “It’s difficult to cure a mental illness, but it’s not impossible. A depressed patient may have suicidal tendencies, so your family must take extra care to prevent any accidents.”
Upon hearing this, my mother immediately trembled. I quickly held her hand to reassure her.
The doctor continued, “A patient suffering from depression needs constant support and care from their family to heal. There is a sanatorium in the southern suburbs that specializes in mental health care. The doctors and equipment there are excellent, though the cost is quite high, and they only accept a limited number of patients. If you’re able to, having a family member accompany her to the sanatorium for a while would be very helpful in her treatment.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I said quietly.
My mother and I supported each other as we left the consulting room. We looked over at Betty, who was sitting disheartened in the waiting area, and my mother began to cry. I had been holding back my own tears, but I couldn’t help it. I quickly handed my mother a tissue.
“Mom, don’t cry in front of Betty,” I whispered gently.
“Okay,” my mother said, wiping her tears quickly. She gathered her emotions and pulled Betty out of the hospital. When we returned home, Betty went straight to her room alone. My mother and I sat down in the living room to talk.
“What should we do for Betty now?” My mother asked, unable to hold back her tears any longer. She clutched a tissue and burst into sobs.
