Page 71 of Shadows of Recovery

"Why have you decided to seek psychiatric help today?"

Sophie paused, swallowing hard. "It’s part of the program. Apparently, she was assaulted as well as beaten and held hostage.” An image of Damon’s perverse smile popped into her head.

"Can you describe the specific symptoms or issues you are having?”

Sophie stood and wrapped her arms around herself. “She wakes up crying and shaking. And during the day, she can't focus on anything. She feels... scared all the time. Of what, she doesn’t know. She has…no memory… of anything." Her brows furrowed.

The memory was vivid. The treatment room. Damon on top of her, inside her. The smell of disinfectant.

"Do you have any persistent thoughts or worries that you find difficult to control?"

Sophie started to hyperventilate, her face turning pale. She couldn’t speak.

Kay's face remained impassive.

Sophie’s breathing became more erratic. She clutched her arms. She felt pins and needles.I keep having nightmares. I wake up in a panic, thinking I'm still there.But where?

Sophie couldn’t speak. She rocked more.

I'm terrified and hopeless. I feel like I'm broken inside.

Finally, she cried out, her last bit of self-preservation. “Get out of my room. Now!”

A disembodied voice echoed in her head.

“Go away.”

Sophie didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. She sat in her room, staring out the window at the courtyard and garden below. A few flakes of snow began to fall. She shifted uncomfortably, her mind replaying bits and pieces of someone else’s memories.

She had disconnected from herself.

Twenty-Seven

Tristan slipped on his lab coat and grabbed his first chart of the morning. Waverly County's ER had been refurbished since the attack on the hospital. As he made his way to the nurses' station, he noticed Sophie's friend Jenna was working the shift with him.

"Hey, Tristan," she greeted him. "How was Sophie's first night at the Institute?"

Tristan gave her a reassuring smile. "She's adjusting. It's going to take some time, but she's in good hands."

"I want to see her," Jenna said, concern evident in her voice.

Tristan nodded. "She'd welcome the support, but we don't want to overwhelm her. Call Chris Skylar. He can help coordinate a visit." As he looked around, he couldn't help but comment, "I can't get over the new colors and design of the ER."

Jenna glanced around as well. "Yeah, I think they want the old ER to be forgotten and this to be a new beginning. I do like the glass-enclosed rooms instead of the curtains, except for the few isolation rooms."

Tristan realized their former isolation rooms bore a resemblance to the Institute's treatment rooms. He handed Jenna the chart he was holding. "Could you see this patient? I need to make a call."

"Of course." Jenna took the chart.

Tristan hurried to his office and closed the door behind him. He opened his phone and dialed Brad Killian's number. After a few rings, Brad answered.

"Tristan, is Sophie, okay?" were the first words out of Brad's mouth.

"We transferred her to the Institute yesterday. I need to know a few things for Sophie. She's been having episodes of a fast heart rate. Yesterday, when she was being examined in one of our treatment rooms, her pulse went dangerously high. Do you have any idea what happened in the ER?"

Tristan leaned back in his chair, waiting for Brad's response. The silence on the other end of the line was deafening, amplifying the anxiety churning in his stomach.

Brad finally spoke, his voice heavy with reluctance. "I'm not supposed to provide anyone with pieces of the investigation. But, given the circumstances, you deserve to know what's happening."

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