Page 158 of Hunting Pretty

I walked across the familiar office to my usual armchair, the floorboards under the overlapping rugs groaning beneath the weight of my steps, the wood warped and uneven.

The air was thick with the scent of old leather and dust, mixed with the faint trace of his lavender plants.

Despite the radiator, it always felt chilly in here and I rubbed my arms as I sat in the patient’s armchair, in the chair I’d sat in every week for the last two years.

Had it been two years already since I’d started therapy?

I always had the sense of time standing still in here.

The low light from a brass desk lamp illuminated the room in an amber glow, but it left the corners in deep, unsettling darkness.

Bookshelves lined the walls, the rows of worn spines broken only by his display of old medical instruments, a rusted bone saw and a tarnished clamp, a porcelain Victorian phrenology head with lines and numbers marking different sections of the brain, and what I was sure was arealhuman skull.

I ran my fingers over the velvet armrest of the patient’s chair, the fabric threadbare and rough. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

Dr. Vale poured us both tall glasses of water from a crystal pitcher before he lowered himself into his leather armchair, the creaking breaking the oppressive silence. “Of course, Ava. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

My bag buzzed in my lap but I ignored it.

I licked my lips which had gone dry and took a sip of my water before placing it back on the low table between us. “My nightmares are back.”

Dr. Vale pursed his lips as he tapped his fountain pen against his notepad resting on his thighs. “We’ve spoken about this. Nightmares are just—”

“It’s not just the nightmares.”

Dr. Vale’s pen stopped tapping. “Go on.”

“I’m seeing… flashes. Memories.” I rubbed my face, feigning distress but watching Dr. Vale closely through my fingers.

Dr. Vale’s bushy eyebrows furrowed together. “You mean… you’re having hallucinations again.”

I gritted my teeth.

Gaslighting bastard. I knew I had buried memories of abuse. I knew Liath had them, too.

He was calling them hallucinations on purpose. Trying to confuse me like he’d tried to confuse Liath. What was he hiding? Who was he covering for?

“They’renothallucinations,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “These are fragments of memories.Realmemories.”

Dr. Vale slipped his pen into his notebook before closing it. He folded his arms in front of him and sighed. “Ava, are you taking your medication?”

I ignored his question. I wasn’t crazy. My bruises were real. My missing time covered up somethingbad.

I didn’t need antipsychotic pills. I needed answers.

For me.

And for Liath.

I scooted forward in my chair and pinned Dr. Vale with a serious look. “I want to remember.”

“Ava—”

“No,” I cut off his protests. “I am ready to remember. I need to know what happened to me. What happened to—”

To Liath.

I needed to know what happened to her.

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