“How are you today?”

“What do you think?”

“You don’t seem to be doing well today. Why?”

“Because I don’t think I can continue getting this treatment. I’ve spent more than fifty thousand dollars over the past three years. I’m broke now. Do you get it?”

Camil vented his pent-up anger as he had poured money into psychotherapy, but he still continued to see a message that ordered him to do something. A month ago, a message that told him to kill someone had popped up.

“You said it’s a hallucination, but how can you describe this?”

Then, Camil took out a metal object the size of a thumb from his pocket. There was a delicate pattern carved on it, and it was a navigator that pointed to the location of the object he had to kill.

“Let’s talk about your parents today,” the psychiatrist said.

“I said this is going to be the last session. Damn it. There’s no problem in my family.”

“We’ve already talked enough about that stuff. Do you think that was not enough?”

“It’s not lacking, but I’m just regretting my decision. I should’ve bought a flight...