Page 109 of Kylie

I glanced at the tissue box on the table. “It definitely did.”

“Another is the date you were saved? Is that how you see it?”

“Yeah. Mostly. I would’ve been dead if Kieran hadn’t gotten me out.”

“That sounds terrifying.”

Meeting Dr. Briggs’s gaze again, I nodded. “It was. So was realizing that Kieran and Allison had played a part in my captivity.”

“How so?”

I found it difficult to look her in the eye when I spoke. “I woke up in a hospital the first time. Or something that resembled one. From what they told me, I’d been in a coma for almost a year at that point. I don’t know where it was, but that was where they kept me for months. Allison was the one who helped me get back on my feet. Literally. I had started to trust her.” I couldn’t disguise the hatred in my tone. “Then she showed up with Kieran—I didn’t know who he was at the time—and jammed a needle in my neck. When I woke up, I was in that shit hole.” I swallowed hard and briefly met her gaze. “Kieran was the one who took me there, but he was also the one who got me out, got me medical attention, and kept me safe for a little while. I don’t know how to feel about that.”

Taking a deep breath, I let that settle between us. I couldn’t believe I’d shared that much with her. Hell, I’d been there all of five minutes, and she already had a brief rundown of what happened. When I was driving there, I thought for sure this would be one of those getting-to-know-you sessions and the hard parts would come later. Much later.

“You don’t know how to feel about which part?” Dr. Briggs prompted.

“All of it.”

“Do you blame Kieran for what happened?”

I met her gaze, pondering the question for a moment before I said, “Yes.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

I shook my head. “And I don’t know if I want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s not the only person I blame.”

I could feel Dr. Briggs’s steady gaze on me. She was so patient, it was almost unsettling.

“You were betrayed, you were hurt. It wasn’t all physical. Who else do you blame, Kylie?”

I didn’t intend to answer that question, but before I could change the subject, a litany of names came spilling out. “Allison, for betraying me. Kieran for helping her. Nurse Ratched for keeping me strapped to that bed. Martin Calloway for stealing my life. His goons for keepin’ me in that shitty house.” At this point, tears were falling. “Travis and Gage for movin’ on without me. My kids for forgettin’ me and for thinkin’ I would ever purposely hurt them.”

The last part took me by surprise. Enough that I felt the need to clarify. “They’re not to blame. Travis, Gage, and my kids. Not even a little, but I feel like a stranger in their house. I don’t fit in anymore. I want to, but I just don’t.”

I reached for the Kleenex box and pulled out two soft white sheets. I dabbed at my eyes, but the tears wouldn’t obey my silent plea for them to stop. The only time I allowed myself to cry was in the shower. I did not want someone to catch me, to think that I was upset with them. I wasn’t.

“What you’re feeling is normal, Kylie. You were taken. And because of that, your family experienced an inexplicable loss. They thought you were dead. You’re seeing the repercussions of that.”

I understood that, but I wasn’t sure what to say.

“How are Travis and Gage?” Dr. Briggs prompted.

“They’re fine,” I said by rote, but then looked up. “I don’t think they know how I fit into their lives anymore.”

“How do you mean?”

Pausing, I pretended to be mopping up my tears while I considered what I wanted to tell her. I had told myself on the way over that I wouldn’t hold back, that I wouldn’t gloss over my responses. It was no less than what I had expected of Kate when she came to see Dr. Briggs after her kidnapping. I recalled telling my daughter it was part of the healing process. And I believed it.

“Sometimes, I feel like a fly on the wall. Like I’m invisible to everyone. The things I used to do with the kids before … Travis and Gage now handle that.”

“Are you talking about the tasks around the house?”

“Yeah. Makin’ meals, takin’ care of bathtime, puttin’ them to bed. Gettin’ up with them in the middle of the night. They do it all. When I ask if I can help, they look at me like I’ve lost my mind.”