I sit up straighter in bed and say, “Yes, I’ve been wanting to talk to the police.”
“Keir, the doctor has some important information to talk to you about first, okay?” the Agent asks. He’s young looking and something about him feels familiar. He’s not treating me like an idiot, which I appreciate.
“Keir, when someone has physical trauma to their brain it can cause what might be thought of as a ‘reset’ where the brain works to protect us from that trauma. In your case, you’ve also had years of abuse and trauma that gave you PTSD, that’s post traumatic stress disorder.” I gape at her. How do they know about the abuse? Did mom finally tell someone?
“It doesn’t mean that you’ve lost those memories, it means your brain has filed them away out of reach right now. You can remember things before the worst of the trauma…” She pats my hand. “You told Dr. Hardin that you’re fifteen, right?”
The agent looks sick, and I’m not feeling so great right now either. It’s hard to follow what she’s saying. My memories aren’t right? I squeeze my eyes shut and open them just to make sure I’m awake. My nightmares are making me afraid to sleep. This could just be one more nightmare.
“Keir you’re not fifteen. You’re twenty-one.” She holds my hand and I jerk back from them both. This is just another nightmare. It can’t be real.
“No, I’m not,” I blurt out. “No, my name isn’t Sam, I’m not twenty-one, and I know this is just a nightmare. I’m going to wake up.” My head no longer feels weighed down with pain, the bandage is a few inches long and I have more mobility. I get out of the bed as quickly as I can, moving towards the door.
“Keir, settle down, please,” the agent says to me, as he moves to cut me off from the door. “Please hear Dr. Vargas out, she’ll try and fill in as much as she can. This only feels like a nightmare, I can reassure you, it’s not.” He won’t let me pass, and I have nowhere to even go. Fear paralyzes me. Where is my mom at? Not once has she visited me here at the hospital. I thought worse case was that she was still under Louis’s thumb at the compound.
“My mom?” My voice cracks. I’ve already lost dad. Don’t tell me she’s gone. Please don’t say it.
He shakes his head and I fall against him as a wail breaks free from me. He holds me up as I sob. I want to die. Just be done with all of this. I held on through all the abuse, thinking mom and I’d find a way out. We’d escape him and all the vile things he got paid for people to do to me.
Dr. Vargas helps the agent get me back to the hospital bed while my legs give out. I don’t even try to help. “What happened to her? How did she die?” The tears won’t stop and I’m not sure they can even understand my questions.
“You didn’t know when you came to us at the Wellness Center, just that she was gone,” Dr. Vargas says in as soothing a voice as she can manage. Agent Scholl has retrieved a box of Kleenex from the bathroom and hands it over to me.
“What’s the Wellness Center?” My voice is a hiccupy mess.
“Horizon Wellness Center, we treat cult survivors and help reintegrate them back into society.”
“How did I get there?” I wad the tissue up in my fist and tamp down the hysteria I’m feeling.
“You were found beaten by the side of the road in Kansas. When you were in the hospital, the county you were in looked for resources for you and contacted us. Your situation was one of the more extreme we’ve ever had. You’ve been able to get your GED with us, get a scholarship for college and find housing. You were flourishing.” If that’s true, how was I hit in the head?
“Keir, you wanted to talk to the police. The case is federal, and it’s being investigated by the FBI. I’m an agent with the FBI.” The agent has kind eyes, and I’m inclined to believe him. I feel like I know him.
“Is Jolie real?” She’s only been here a handful of times, but she's always said she’s my friend. I could use one right now.
The agent’s eyebrows shoot up. “What did you just say?”
“Can I talk to my friend, Jolie? She’s real, right?” Dr. Vargas and the agent share a look. If they tell me it’s my mind making it up, I won’t be able to stop the scream building up inside of me.
“I’ll call her for you,” Dr. Vargas says as she pats my hand again.
23. BLAINE
The door slams and I look over the back of the couch to see Matt striding through it. He looks like a storm cloud. This should be fun. “This isn’t a Goddamn romper room, pick up after yourself,” he growls at me as he passes. “You’re a fucking slob.” I am, but that’s beside the point.
“Good day?” I quip. Usually, my scattered clothing or empty dish... okay, and maybe some leftovers laying around don’t get this reaction, just huffy stomping around as he cleans it up. “Who pissed you off?”
He continues up the stairs without answering me. Fine. I go back to watching the documentary on children who murder their families. Eden went upstairs to take a nap after a heated and playful morning on the couch with me. I found a new favorite spot on her hip that makes her toes curl. Hutton slunk out of here at the crack of dawn and I pretended not to notice. The sooner he goes about his life and leaves the better. I’m not convinced he’s not a cold-blooded killer.
Eden comes downstairs wrapped in her fuzzy blanket and asks, “Did you two get into another fight?” Her look of reproach is adorable, and she snuggles her face into the top of the blanket. Matt and I have been on a constant bicker since I’ve been here. It seems to be our default setting.
“Don’t blame me this time. He came home this way. Not it.” I turn the television off and open my arms, hoping she’ll sit on my lap. She obliges, laying back against my chest. I cradle her close and get a good lungful of the flowery smelling shampoo she uses.
“Huh. Are you sure? It’s a mess down here again.” She looks around at the shit I have all over the place. Empty packages, a couple shirts, a pair of shorts, a few empty energy drink cans. I need to try a little harder.
Matt jogs down the stairs having changed into a t-shirt and shorts. He looks like he’s ready to tear into someone. “Hey, Eden, could Blaine and I have a second to talk?” She gets up and gives me a ‘told you so’ look and kisses Matt in passing.
“It’ll just be a few minutes, sweetheart.” He gives her a squeeze.
