Page 82 of Ruthless Regret

Could this be the breakthrough I need? It opens up a whole new set of questions, though.

Who was the other person? Why didn’t she remember them before, and more importantly, how do we unlock the rest of her memories?

Ashley is perched on the edge of the couch, eyes on me, watching as I pace back and forth across the room.

“Maybe she’s not home?” Her voice is hesitant.

“She’s home. She’ll?—”

“Zain?” My mom picks up finally. “Is everything okay?”

“I need your professional opinion on something.” I don’t bother with pleasantries. “It’s about accessing repressed memories.”

There’s a short pause before she replies, and when she does her voice is careful. “Is this about Ashley?”

“Yeah.” I take a deep breath. “She remembered something new. Someone else was there the night Jason and Louisa werekilled. But there are still gaps. I need to know if there’s a way to bring those memories out.”

“I thought Ashley went back to New York?”

“She did.” I glance over at her. “But she agreed to come back.”

“I see.”

“Mom, this is important.”

“Repressed memories are a complicated subject.” Her voice turns brisk. “There’s no guaranteedorconfirmed way to access them. Trying to force it can sometimes do more harm than good.”

“But there’s a way to try? What about hypnosis?”

“Hypnosis is risky. It can actually cause more false memories. Zain, you have to understand that the mind can be incredibly suggestible under hypnosis, and if you’re the right kind of person, the hypnotist can inadvertently, or purposely, plant ideas or memories that weren’t there before.”

Her message is clear. We can’t risk adding more false memories.

“Then what can we do? We can’t just sit around and wait for her to maybe remember something.”

“I know you want answers, but please be careful. Ashley’s memories have already proven unreliable once. Don’t stake everything on them now.”

“Right now, there is nothing else.”

“I know it isn’t fair, Zain. After everything you’ve been through … you deserve answers. But pushing for them the wrong way could lead you down a path to disappointment. I don’t want you to risk that.”

I can’t just let it go. I need to know what really happened that night. I need to know why my best friends were murdered. I can’t move on without understanding why it happened.

I take a deep breath, then change tack slightly. “That guy you mentioned. The one who came around asking questions after my arrest …”

“What about him?”

“Do you remember anything else? Anything at all that might help identify who he was?”

She pauses, and I guess she’s thinking about my questions. “He seemed professional. Like he knew what he was doing, and had every right to ask me questions. But he wasn’t part of the police force. I’m sure of that.”

“And he never explained why he was asking questions?”

“No, not really. Just that he was looking into the case. Like I said, I assumed he was a journalist or maybe a private investigator.”

“Anything else? What he looked like, what he was wearing?”

"I'm sorry, honey. It was so long ago, and I was ... Well, I was focused on other things at the time."

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