The Lake

Basch hugged his daughter tightly, remembering the way that he used to when she was a little girl. He felt tears prick at his own eyes, but contained them. It wouldn't do for Cora to see her father cry. "It's okay. We're going to help you through this. I promise."

"It's okay. It's over now," he murmured gently. "We can go home, if you want. Back to Switzerland. You can take a break. We can... we can fix this, I promise." Even to him, his voice sounded hollow with sadness.

"I'm sure because I was like this too," Basch told her quietly. "And there's ways to get better."

"Yeah. Though I didn't think of drowning myself in the lake as a way to go through with it. I'm glad I never actually..." his voice trailed off, his language shifting from German to English. "My point is, I know what you're going through."

"I took medication for a bit. It did help some. But what helped the most was actually seeing a therapist and... just talking about it. Being vocal about the way I felt was never, ever easy for me as a teenager. And it isn't easy for me now. I think that took a toll on me. But the therapist, though I was opposed to having one at first, helped a lot."

"Maybe. It's different for everyone. I mean, I had someone my own age that had the same problem helping me along as well. Mr. Veneziano. So maybe you'll need something different, but I wouldn't shut down the idea of therapy."

"I must have been something like fourteen? Maybe thirteen when I first started showing signs of it. Then it all reached a boiling point and..." Basch shrugged, running a hand through his blonde hair. "It was a very tough time for me. Especially with all of those things concerning my father returning to my and Lilli's life."

"Alcohol?!" Basch narrowed his eyes. "... What alcohol?"'

Basch rubbed at his temples. As much as it pained him to know that his child was drinking to drown her pain, he understood. At her age, it wasn't as if he hadn't had self-destructive behaviors-- it still made him shudder to remember the point at which he simply stopped eating altogether. "Hopefully antidepressants can take the place of alcohol, then. Do tell me that none of your other friends have been drinking as much, either."

Giovanni, from his place at the doorway, stiffened.