“Are you alone or is your father with you?”
I scrunch up my face, trying to concentrate on the scene.
“Relax your features,” Dr.Wilmer says in that tranquil tone. “Don’t push it. Just breathe. Focus on your birdhouse.”
I watch myself painting the wooden slats. Those little hands.
“Oh hush, you’re just saying that.” A female voice. Laughter.
“I never just say things. The light adores you, Leah.” My father’s voice.
I suck in a sharp breath.
“You’re safe, Ryan. What do you see?”
“They’re talking. My dad. He’s talking to Leah Devereaux.” It’s hard to speak through the shock. “She’s at the studio with him. Withus.”
“Who is Leah Devereaux, Ryan?”
“She’s…He…He killed her,” I choke out. “She’s one of the women he killed. Why is she here?”
“Can I see?” My voice now.
“Of course you can, little sparrow.”
I pad across the floorboards in my tiny bright red sneakers and peek over my father’s shoulders at the sketchpad in his lap. I see the delicate curve of a woman’s cheek. Dark hair tumbling over one shoulder.
I look up and beam at the real-life woman. “Soooo pretty!” I tell her.
“She’s sitting on a stool. Posing for him.” My voice sounds far, far away. “He’s sketching her.”
“Gabby,” he says. “You should probably start heading back to the big housenow. Your momma will be home soon from the hospital, and she’ll need your help with dinner.”
“But I’m not done painting my birdhouse.”
“It’ll still be here tomorrow. Run along now, little sparrow. And don’t forget, you can’t tell Mom that Leah stopped by. It’s going to be a surprise. So until we can share the surprise…” He makes a zipping motion with his finger across his mouth.
“It’s a secret!” I zip my own lips.
“He’s making me leave. He wants to be alone with her.”
My stomach begins to churn. The memory has cracked open, and now the dark is starting to spill through. I can feel it engulfing me, swallowing me whole.
“Oh my God, was that the day he killed her?”
“Ryan—”
“Was I there the day she died?” Panic gurgles in my throat. “Oh my God! She was there and Ileft! I left her there to die! I left her to die! I—”
“Ryan!”
Firm hands grip my cheeks, and I blink my eyelids open to find Dr.Wilmer kneeling in front of me, her eyes swimming with concern.
“You’re okay,” she assures me, her voice firm. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”
She repeats the words several more times, but they don’t seem to penetrate. I can’t shake the horror of what I just saw.
IsawEverett’s mother in my father’s studio. I laughed with her. I complimented her.
