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A pained look crossed Nik’s face at the reality. “I know you wanted to remember things naturally, Tiggs, but maybe one of us should read it?”
“I don’t want you reading it, either. It’s bad enough that other people already know more about me than I do.” She turned and asked Coop and me, “How much did I weigh at birth?”
While I knew the answer to the seemingly random question, I also knew she meant to test some theory of hers. I stayed silent.
Coop, however, didn’t have the ability to keep his mouth shut. “Just shy of ten pounds. You were a big girl. Born straight up at midnight after a very long labor. It’s all in the file.”
“Most people don’t know how much they weighed at birth. At least, not off the top of their head,” I offered.
“Exactly,” Thea stated. “None of this is natural. Everything in the file is stats and numbers or some resume of education and employment that explains how or even why I got into the FBI. I don’t want to know those things. And I certainly don’t want to read one more news article on my sister’s kidnapping or how my father being falsely accused had led to his suicide.”
“But you do want something,” I said before I could stop myself. She was desperate to find her sister. Wasn’t that what all of the Clay Kenyon fiasco had been about? Wasn’t that who she wanted to remember more than her own memories?
“I want to be the one who decides what is relevant and what isn’t.” Thea’s response barely hinted at what she’d tried to talk with me about earlier, but I grimaced, empathizing. My own need to control my past and keep it private had us all here in the first place. Not having any say over what you shared or with who had to be unnerving.
“Can we at least agree that anything that involves you going into anaphylactic shock is relevant?” Nik tried again, as gentle as a Navy SEAL with the muscle in his jaw popping out could.
The former SEALs on my spec ops teams always reminded me of those wind-up toy cars when they’d been wound tight. They looked like all the other toy cars, except the second you put them on ground, off they went.
“You know, there is another option,” Coop stated.
We all turned our attention to him. Instead of elaborating, he swiped his beer bottle and took a swig, like he was using it to shut himself up.
Too little, too late, Sharky.
“Don’t be shy,” Nik grunted. “If it can help Thea, spit it out.”
Coop set the bottle down, then smoothed his hand across his jaw, dragging his thumb along his lower lip. “I mean, it’s a bit radical, but there’s always Ibogaine and 5-MeO-DMT.”
“Ibo-five-what?” Thea repeated.
“Wait,” Leo interjected, then asked, “Is that the peyote stuff people drink?”
“You’re thinking of Ayahuaska tea,” Nik answered.
“Ibogaine is a naturally occurring psychedelic dissociate similar to those, yes. You take it as part of a guided psychotherapy. The protocol has had success in curbing drug addiction, PTSD, and even TBI.”
“Is this the clinic you told me about a few months back? Down in South America with shamans?” Nik asked. “You never told me how it went.”
“How it went?” Leo dropped his oyster with a clatter. “You didn’t actually do that shit, did you?”
“Several guys in the community have done it,” Coop said, dismissing his brother’s obvious upset by skirting his question. But I couldn’t help but wonder if this had been the reason Coop had gone to Brazil in the first place.
Directing his attention more to Thea, he continued, “Many have had vivid recollections of their entire lives, especially childhood. It might be worth looking into.”
“Yeah, well, people say your life flashes before your eyes when you die, too. Doesn’t mean you sign up for it,” Leo snapped.
“You think I signed up for this?” Coop muttered under his breath.
My attention volleyed between the two brothers. The tension hung like a thick, heavy fog.
“You’ve done some messed-up shit, but going off to a third-world jungle to drink drug-laced Kool-Aid so you can trip balls? Really, Coop? Is that how you want to spend this time? You should be—”
“Enough,” Coop bit out, cutting him off. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about options for Thea to access her memories.”
Leo scraped his chair back, throwing his napkin over his plate. “You’re right. I’m done.”
Bolting toward the yacht’s interior, he nearly collided with Cait as she and Kai brought out the main course.
