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‘Since childhood.’
‘Then surely you must have seen a doctor or a counsellor? Someone must have noticed you panic—your parents, a teacher, Gabe, Cora...’
‘I didn’t need to see anyone.’
‘Did your parents know?’
Easy, Daniel. This isn’t a witness in the stand.
‘Yes. But they decided it was better to deal with it ourselves.’
By that, Daniel was pretty sure Kaitlin meant they had left her to deal with it by herself. His mind whirred, put together the hints and conversational snippets of the past few days.
‘Something happened to incite the panic and they didn’t want the publicity.’
‘Leave it.’
Her face had blanched and Daniel knew that whatever had happened to her had been catastrophic.
‘I’m not under oath and I will not discuss the cause of the attacks.’
There was strength and dignity in her stance and in her voice, underlain with such vulnerability that his chest ached. Whatever burden she bore she clearly carried it alone. Anger with her parents caused his stride to increase even as he determined not to spook her further.
‘I understand. I won’t ask any more. But I strongly believe that you need to talk to an expert.’
‘I have it under control.’
‘I totally admire that you have managed this for so long, but there may be a better way. A way to overcome the panic rather than control it—a way to make it go away. The best way to find out is to talk to someone—an expert, a therapist.’
‘I can’t do that.’
‘Yes, you can. If the story leaks out so be it.’ Halting in front of her, he reached out a hand and pulled her up, kept her hand in his. ‘Kaitlin, this is your life we’re talking about.’
‘Stop it. You’re messing with my head. My life is fine as it is.’
‘Yes, it is. I would never belittle what you have achieved. But the panic imposes limits on you. Without it your life could take a different trajectory.’
‘That is akin to the assertion that a blind person’s life would be different if they could see. It is as it is.’
‘Maybe it doesn’t have to be. You owe it to yourself to find out.’
She huffed out a sigh that signalled exasperation, pulled her hand from his. ‘Until you came along my life was on the exact trajectory I wanted it to be on, and I have every intention of returning it there after Venice. End of discussion.’
Frustrated, he opened his mouth to continue the argument—until he saw the stubborn set to her jaw. Perhaps a softly-softly approach would make more sense, but he wouldn’t let this go for long. Just for now.
‘Fair enough. No more discussion. But I have an idea about the Doge’s Palace. Think back to Barcelona.’
‘I really don’t want to remember Barcelona.’
‘Yes, you do.’ He took her hands back, ignored the shiver of sensation that rippled up his arm in response. ‘You walked the streets, you went into the hustle and bustle of a tapas bar and you were fine.’
‘That’s because—’
She broke off, pressed her lips together, and he wondered what she had been about to say.
‘Because you were ‘Lynette’?’
‘Something like that. But that won’t work here.’
