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Shelby Anderson et Sunmi

𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐚 | 𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌

Shelby Anderson’s relationship with Sunmi, her psychologist in Ellensburg, is built around a distinction Shelby badly needs: being invited to speak is not the same as being made to speak. Sunmi offers confidentiality, time, and attentive support, allowing Shelby to approach painful memories on her own terms. Their sessions connect the work of naming trauma with the quieter work of regaining trust, without suggesting that therapy erases what happened or makes recovery simple.

Establishing trust

Sunmi already knows that Shelby has struggled to fit in and open up since a traumatic event. When she asks whether Shelby wants to discuss it, Shelby says she is not ready at that moment. Sunmi accepts the answer without pressure and assures her that whatever she says will remain in the room. That response sets the terms of their relationship: the subject is available for discussion, but Shelby controls when she approaches it.

The assurance matters against the history Shelby later describes. In high school, when she confided in Madison Jefferson about her assault, Madison did not believe her. Shelby says Madison made a scene, turning her from a victim into someone blamed for the harm. Shelby also recounts that Connor Barnum attacked the man she accused, who was hospitalized for several days, and that the later trial did not bring justice; the influential family, Shelby says, escaped consequence. Her account reveals why the possibility of speaking safely cannot be taken for granted. The earlier disclosure to a friend became another source of exposure and stigma, so Sunmi’s promise of confidentiality offers a different starting point.

Grief and the body’s response

In a session with Sunmi, Shelby begins to speak about her mother. Her mother developed widespread cancer, and Shelby remembers staying beside her and trying to be her “sunshine” when she was only eight years old. Then her mother died. As Shelby cries, Sunmi listens with empathy and understands her willingness to share this memory as a small portion of the trust Shelby is extending.

The telling also brings visible distress. Shelby looks down at her trembling hands; her breathing becomes hurried and difficult to control. Sunmi rises, gently takes her hands, strokes their backs, and guides her to follow a slower breath while keeping her gaze in view. Shelby says she feels better and thanks her. The episode gives their therapeutic connection a physical as well as conversational dimension: Sunmi responds to what Shelby’s body is showing, offering steadiness while the grief is being spoken. Shelby’s gratitude and participation mark the support as something that reaches her in the moment, not proof that the pain has disappeared.

Trauma, belief, and ongoing care

Outside the sessions, Shelby tells Dorcas Peters that she has a psychologist in Los Angeles and now sees one of that psychologist’s colleagues. She describes the current psychologist as kind. In the same conversation, Shelby identifies consequences of the assault that include self-harm, an eating disorder, and cannabis use. These details establish the wider burden surrounding her treatment, though the story does not present them as a complete clinical account or claim that a single conversation resolves them.

Sunmi’s role is especially significant in the context of Shelby’s earlier experience of disbelief. Later, when Shelby tells Jungkook Jeon about her assault, he tells her that he believes her. The relief is immediate: she cries, smiles with hope, and thanks him. That exchange is not a therapy session, but it echoes the conditions Sunmi has tried to establish—being heard without blame, and being able to disclose without losing control of the encounter. Shelby’s support network is not reducible to her relationship with Sunmi; the counseling relationship is one part of a broader process of finding people who can meet her account with care.

Trust in everyday life

By December 17, Shelby enters a session looking relaxed and serene, with a brightness in her expression that Sunmi notices. Sunmi asks how things are going with Jungkook. Shelby says they have grown closer. She describes feeling reassured by the way he has comforted her and by his efforts to remain calmer around her, while Sunmi distinguishes the protection of a father from the different, more intimate support Jungkook is trying to offer. The conversation lets Shelby reflect on closeness without treating it as a substitute for therapy.

Sunmi also asks about Connor and Lydia. Shelby recounts that Jungkook has spoken with her father, and Sunmi is surprised that he managed to express himself without resorting to violence. When Shelby says her relationship with Lydia is improving and that they sometimes message, Sunmi welcomes the change. Shelby feels relieved: the earlier tension had fed her anxiety and anger, while the repaired relationship leaves her more at ease when visiting her father and his partner. Sunmi’s questions thus attend not only to symptoms or traumatic memory but also to the changing relationships in Shelby’s daily life.

Significance and limits

The relationship develops through repeated permission to choose: Sunmi asks, Shelby may decline; Sunmi listens, and Shelby later decides what she can disclose. Its most concrete moments are modest—a promise of privacy, a pair of trembling hands held gently, breathing slowed in company, and questions that make room for changes outside the consulting room. Their intimacy is professional rather than familial or romantic, but the trust it supports becomes part of Shelby’s capacity to speak and reconnect with others.

The ending does not certify that Shelby is finished healing. The novel describes Shelby and Jungkook as moving forward, separately and together, and leaving their inner demons behind as a difficult but possible undertaking. Sunmi’s care belongs to that broader movement, not to a simple cure narrative: it gives Shelby a setting in which painful experience can be approached at her own pace while change remains gradual, relational, and unfinished.