Page 160 of Hunting Pretty

Pain and guilt tightened Dr. Vale’s voice. He glancedaway, his eyes shiny, and with measured movements, he cleaned his glasses with a maroon handkerchief.

A knot lodged in my throat, a silence descending upon us, thick and sticky, except for the steady tick of Dr. Vale’s antique clock on his bookshelf.

Was Dr. Vale right?

Had Liath been spiraling into paranoid insanity? I knew she’d been partying more than usual the last few months. But had her DMRT session really tipped her over the edge? Had she just… run away, unable to cope anymore?

Dr. Vale set his glasses back on his nose and faced me, his demeanor composed once more. “Are you taking your medication? Every morning without fail?”

“I…” I tried to think back to this morning. Had I taken my meds today? I had a vague memory of taking my pills, but… it was fuzzy. I couldn’t tell if that memory was from this morning or another day.

Fuck, what did I even do this morning?

Dr. Vale let out a sigh. “Ava, I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself.”

“I’m taking them! I just… maybe I missed a day or two.”

Dr. Vale tilted his head and stared at me for a long moment. Then he set his notebook aside. “Maybe we should try a higher dose for your medication, Ava.”

My phone rang this time, the continuous buzzing breaking through my thoughts.

Dr. Vale glanced down to my phone, annoyance bleeding into his pursed mouth.

No phones was a strict rule in his sessions.

“Sorry,” I muttered as I pulled my phone out. “I’ll turn it off.”

Before I could switch it off, a text notification came up from Seamus. Earlier, I’d given him Liath’s and my pills to test.

I shot Dr. Vale an apologetic look and opened it.

The first message made my breath hitch.

The second message stopped my heart.

Seamus: These aren’t antidepressants or antipsychotic pills.

Seamus: They’re memory suppressors.

AVA

Seamus’ text message seared into my brain, each word a hammer blow.

These aren’t antidepressants or antipsychotics… they’re memory suppressors.

A cold dread settled over me. Dr. Vale didn’t just know something about Liath’s abduction—he was the one behind it.

He had been drugging her. He abused her.

The memory suppressors were his way of controlling her, of silencing her when she got too close to the truth.

He was in the perfect position to know when her memories were coming back, when she was becoming a threat to his sick, twisted games.

He drugged her.

Kidnapped her.

Killed her.

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