Page 4 of All for her Forgiveness

"Are you testing me?"

"Constantly, Kennedy. I thought I made that clear to you from the start."

"I don't remember facts, like my name, the people I knew, or if I did what they're accusing me of, doctor, but I haven't forgotten how a human being functions or appears. I know when I need to go to the bathroom, I know how to brush my teeth, and I also know the difference between a 'normal' and a 'beaten' face, and when I remember that morning, I'm sure someone hurt me."

His expression doesn't change. It's annoyingly neutral, like in all the other sessions we've had.

"Who's paying you?" I ask.

"What?"

"You're not a state-provided doctor. I talked to an inmate, and she told me you're famous."

"I can't give you that information. I signed a confidentiality agreement."

"Is it someone who wants what's best for me?"

"I won't answer that, Kennedy, because I really don't know the motivation of the person who hired me, but I can give you my word that Iama doctor who honors the oath he took. My assessment of your condition will be absolutely neutral. I will form my opinion based on our meetings and not to satisfy the defense or the prosecution."

"That sounds fair."

Earlier today, I found out that the public defender the state provided me with when I woke up from the coma has been replaced by a team of criminal defense lawyers. I'm sure Ernest is responsible for this change, although I don't understand how he managed to afford them. We lived comfortably, albeit isolated, but I don't think he's wealthy.

"Let's focus on why I'm here, Kennedy. For this to work between us, you'll have to tell me everything that happened that night."

I run my hand over my face, feeling very tired. I look at the ceiling in the hospital room. "And what is everything? When will you accept that I'm not lying? I've told you the same story dozens of times. It's what I remember. I woke up in a strange house—or rather, strange to me because I don't remember it—in pain, and saw blood on my body. I thought I was injured. I panicked. I ran downstairs to ask for help, and when I got to the ground floor, everything was eerily silent. And then . . .”

I struggle not to cry as grotesque images form in my mind.

No, I don't believe I did that. No matter how much they say I did, I couldn't be that cruel.

"Calm down. Let's end the session. Someone is waiting to see you."

I know it's Ernest. He said he would come, and I'm torn between joy at seeing him again and worry because, even if only for a short time, he leaves King with someone else to come visit me, and right now, I don't trust anyone else.

"Yes, I know."

"Our session is over for today," he says, getting up.

Only a few minutes pass before the door to the room opens again and Ernest walks in.

I try to get up from the bed, but he shakes his head. "Calm down, my dear."

"How is he?"

"Your son is fine, dear. King is handsome and healthy. A happy child."

Thick, warm tears stream down my face. "I would give anything to see him again."

"I can try to arrange a visit."

"No. I don't want him here. Any news about my lawyers' request for me to answer the charges while out on bail?"

"They're doing their best, my dear. They said there's a chance because the prosecution hasn't formally charged you as an accomplice to murder. At the moment, it seems your charge is for assisting in the commission of a crime, which would mean a much lighter sentence."

"Why didn't they charge me with murder? Isn't that what everyone thinks I did?"Especially "that man,"I add silently.

Hades Kostanidis. He wants revenge against whoever hurt the woman who was under his protection. I'm sure he hates me, because Ernest told me that as soon as I woke up from the coma, the Greek hired a team of lawyers to assist the prosecution in getting my conviction.

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