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“PTSD? But she didn’t remember what happened.”
“That’s what I said. Turns out that doesn’t matter. Being in the hospital with her injuries was traumatic enough, and though her mind didn’t recall the actual trauma, her body did. The symptoms showed up with a vengeance on that first day of school. We literally had to pick her up and take her to see a doctor that day. She wouldn’t move. He diagnosed her with severe PTSD and suggested a brief hospitalization so experts could figure out how to treat her. What else could we do? We agreed.”
I nodded.
“She was hospitalized for evaluation and remained catatonic for several more days. When she finally came out of it, she still didn’t want to go back to school. Lucy decided she could homeschool Daphne until she was ready to go back, so she quit her job and we brought Daphne home.”
I nodded again.
“Neither Lucy nor Daphne took to homeschooling. It was a bad fit all around, so the psychiatrist suggested we admit Daphne to a psychiatric treatment center where she’d get her schooling and also receive treatment.”
“And…”
“Daphne didn’t want to go, of course. Who would? But we insisted, and she went under a lot of duress. She got used to it after a few days.”
“She says she doesn’t remember most of that time. Did they keep her drugged up?”
“No, they didn’t. She had some medications, of course, to help with the severe anxiety and depression, but mostly she chooses not to remember, Brad.”
“Wait. What do you mean she chooses not to remember?”
“Simply what I said. Part of her therapy required her to keep a journal while she was there.”
“She never mentioned that.”
“Because the therapist has the journal. He hasn’t let her read it because he doesn’t want to traumatize her. Dr. Payne said it’s important that she ask for it. When she does, he’ll give it to her.”
I cleared my throat. “Have you read it?”
“No, I haven’t. Dr. Payne offered, but Lucy and I haven’t been able to bring ourselves to. Besides, it may be highly personal, never meant for our eyes.”
“So she kept a journal. What else did she do at the hospital?”
“Therapy, of course, and studies. And she learned to play a musical instrument.”
My mind whirled back to our time in the guesthouse. She’d sat down at the baby grand piano in the living room… “Was it the piano?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“We have a piano at the guesthouse on the ranch. When I took her there, she said she didn’t play, but she sat right down and played some notes and chords. When I asked her where she learned, she said music class.”
“I suppose you could call it music class. It was one-on-one piano instruction at the facility.”
I cleared my throat. I needed to ask the next question, even though I didn’t necessarily want to hear the answer. “Did anything traumatic happen to Daphne at the hospital itself?”
“No. Not that we know of. It’s a good facility. If I had any doubts about it, I would have pulled her right out of there, Brad.”
“I know that. I’m just trying to understand why she doesn’t remember so much of it.”
“Dr. Payne says she’s blocking it out. It’s a time in her life when she didn’t have any control, and she doesn’t want to remember it.”
“This is the same Dr. Payne who said she was ready to go away to college, right?”
“Yes. He’s a good man and an excellent therapist. She got through her senior year with excellent grades, and she didn’t have any issues with memory. She had some recurring nightmares, but they eventually subsided.”
“Jonathan,” I said, “they haven’t subsided.”
He wrinkled his forehead. “Oh, no.”
“They’re not interfering with her daily life. She’s doing well in classes and enjoys college. I know she’s had the dream twice since she’s been at college, though. Once was while we were at my ranch.”
“Did she tell you about it?”
“Briefly. She doesn’t remember it. She only knows she’s afraid, but she wakes up and can’t remember why.”
“Dr. Payne thinks it’s her subconscious remembering the assault,” Jonathan said quietly.
“Could I talk to Dr. Payne? If Daphne’s my responsibility now—”
Jonathan stopped me. “You can’t. Daphne’s over eighteen now. You’d need her permission to talk to her doctors or access her records. Even Lucy and I can’t at this point.”
“What about after we’re married?”
“Still no, unless you get Daphne’s written consent. Adult medical files are private.”
Damn.
Damn, damn, damn.
“Is it possible that she’ll remember the incident?”
“Memory can come back, but Dr. Payne doubts it.”
“What if she needs to remember? What if the only way she’ll be able to stop the nightmares is to deal with what happened to her?”
“Lucy and I talked to Dr. Payne at length about that before Daphne turned eighteen. It’s a tough call. Would you want to tell your daughter she’d been beaten and raped by three men? That her best friend committed suicide because of it?” He shook his head. “I can’t do it. I just can’t.”
