Page 85 of Amnesty

I told them a watered-down version. Basically, Sadie and Am were victims of the same man. Both kidnapped, held hostage, and abused.

It took a while to assure them I was handling it, a fact that sort of pissed me off. I mean, I was a grown man, for fuck’s sake. Yet at the same time, I understood. I was a complete mess for years after Sadie disappeared. It took a long time to get me back on track, and they’d watched the entire thing.

I was older now. Stronger. And my heart knew love. My entire body knew it. People often said love made you weak.

Maybe it did because it allowed you to get hurt. I sure as hell hurt when I saw the pain in Amnesia’s eyes.

Love wasn’t a weakness, though.

It was a strength.

Probably the strongest bond I’d ever felt. I wouldn’t crumble under any of this because I had everything to protect.

Thank God for my parents, though. Without them, Loch Gen would likely sit unopened, and the residents here would be pissed. Especially Ms. Scarlet; she needed her nightly apple.

They were keeping the place going, and I was able to focus on the shit in my life that was a lot less stable. At least today. Amnesia was right this morning when she said we had to live. We had to go on. Stability within chaos. As an adult, I was learning that was key.

The hospital was so familiar to me now. I probably knew it as well as the staff. It wasn’t a place I wanted to be so well acquainted with, but wants and needs were entirely different.

I felt guilty for not being there more. For not coming back yesterday after Amnesia ran out, and I hoped Sadie wasn’t angry with me. Or hurt. The last thing I wanted was for her to endure more hurt.

The nurses waved as I went past. I nodded and kept going.

Just as I was about to knock, the door swung open and Dr. Kline stepped out. Her eyes widened when she saw me on the other side. I stepped back to make room for her exit instead of brushing past.

“Doctor,” I said, letting the door close behind her.

“Mr. Donovan.” She inclined her chin.

“Eddie.” I corrected. “How’s she doing?”

“You know I can’t discuss my patients with you.”

I sighed. “Look, I don’t need anything private. But a general update isn’t something that’s out of the realm of reason. Especially in this situation. I think you know that.”

Dr. Kline hesitated then sighed. “She has a long way to go. The things that happened to her… some of them are very difficult to heal from.”

“Impossible?” I asked.

Again, she hesitated. “I can’t really say.”

“Because you don’t know or because you’re obligated not to?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice was low. “I haven’t dealt with this degree of PTSD.”

I didn’t know why, but the diagnosis caught my off guard. “PTSD?”

She shifted. “It’s not just for military veterans. Any kind of traumatic situation can result in a victim suffering from post-traumatic stress.”

“She said some things to Am yesterday. She had a memory and was very upset, but didn’t want to call you.”

“Amnesia is much stronger mentally than Sadie,” Dr. Kline remarked.

That made me feel better, more hopeful.

“Because of the amnesia?”

“Likely.”

---