Page 63 of See Me After Class

Gradually, under the watchful eye of the transitioning sky and the serenade of the early birds, my eyelids began to feel heavy. The turmoil in my mind started to ebb, giving way to a weary, yet welcome, drowsiness. I finally succumbed to sleep, deep but short, as the world outside ushered in a new day.

Morning came far too soon for comfort, but I had my case to look forward to. I got ready just in time for breakfast. Leon was there in the dining hall but chose to avoid looking my way. It was for the best.

I grabbed a bagel and a cup of hot coffee, nothing too fancy.

"Hey, girl."

Chelsea's singsong voice sounded behind me. I braced myself for what she was sure to ask.

"Hey."

"How was last night?"

Oh, if I could tell you…

I shrugged and ripped the bagel apart with my teeth. "Fine. He just wanted my opinion on a case."

Chelsea nodded knowingly. "I told you! You never have to feel unsafe here, not with the kind of professors we have."

I almost spat out my coffee. How were the students here so bloody oblivious to what was going on? I couldn't partake in this conversation without feeling like I'd lose a million brain cells each second. "Chelsea," I said apologetically, "I have to go. Let's talk later."

She looked a little hurt but bobbed her head. "Sure thing. See you after class, D."

I stiffened at the "see you after class". John Galbraith had told me to do the same thing, in a different tone, with different intent. A familiar rush swept through me, hot and uncomfortable. I shook my head as I walked away from the dining hall. Now was not the time.

After wrapping up my morning class, I made my way toward Dr. Thorne's office in town. Stepping into the clinic, I inhaled deeply. Dr. Thorne had provided me with a space of my own.

My office was a blend of modern and rustic aesthetics. The walls were lined with sleek, dark wood bookshelves brimming with psychological texts and literature. My desk, a minimalist piece of glass and steel, stood by the window, offering a panoramic view of Stillingbrook City.

The Connecticut skyline, with its mix of urban structure and natural beauty, shimmered outside.

Two armchairs, upholstered in earthy brown, faced each other near the window. As I was arranging some papers on my desk, Dr. Thorne knocked and entered, a file in his hand.

"Good morning, Dessie," he greeted me with a smile. "How are you settling in today?"

"Good morning, Dr. Thorne," I replied, turning to greet him. "I'm just getting organized. Anything new?"

He handed me the file. "Actually, yes. There's a particularly intriguing case I think you'll find interesting. It's what I hinted at last night."

I opened the file and quickly scanned the contents. "Lila Monroe…" I frowned as the news headlines returned to me. "The kidnapping survivor?"

It had been all over the news a few years back. Delilah and Delpi Monroe were twins who had been adopted into a rich family. They were both child models, both immensely successful. So much so that both of them fell into a trap thatinvolved a messy, heartbreaking kidnapping. Both were a month short of nineteen at the time. Delilah made it out.

"Exactly." Dr. Thorne nodded, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. "Her case has garnered a lot of public attention. She's written a book about her experience, but there are some... inconsistencies in her story."

I sat across from him, my mind already analyzing the possibilities. "Inconsistencies? Like what?"

"Some details in her interviews don't match up with what she wrote in her book. And there are parts of her story that seem... embellished, perhaps."

I considered this, the wheels in my mind turning. "Do we think it's a case of trauma affecting her memory, or something more deliberate?"

"That's what we need to find out," he said, his expression cloaked in shadows. "Your task is to evaluate her, try to understand what's going on beneath the surface. But it's a sensitive situation, Dessie. Handle it with care."

"I understand," I replied, studying the case details minutely. "When is she coming in?"

"Right about now. I'm confident you can handle this, Dessie. You have a knack for puzzles, right? This is a good one."

25

---