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“It’s pretty messed up,” Brian agreed. “I mean, you take money from all these people with complex PTSD to come on a retreat where you promised to help them, and the entire time, you know they’re not really safe. Isn’t that the worst thing you could do to people like us? Most of us have experienced violence.”
“But this didn’t bother you all week until Meg died?” Josie asked.
Brian rubbed at his wrist again. “It didn’t occur to us until Meg died, no.”
Nicola waved one of her arms in the air for emphasis. “Because we felt like we were in this safe bubble until Meg died, and then it made us look at our situation. Sure, Meg froze to death, but she was never really safe. None of us were. Any one of us could freeze to death up here. There’s a bear out there wandering around! Any one of us could get mauled. Now we’re stuck here and could starve to death! Sandrine knew there were all these dangers, and she just didn’t care. She doesn’t know what she’s doing! No sane person would bring us all here knowing how much could go wrong!”
Brian nodded. “This was a money-grab, pure and simple. She’s not interested in our trauma or helping us. She doesn’t know anything about trauma. She’s playing trauma guru like it’s some kind of reality show.”
Before Josie could say anything more, the door to the cabin banged open and Sandrine flew in. Alice and Taryn crowded in behind her, watching with wide eyes as Sandrine pushed past Josie, eyes ablaze, and pointed her finger at Brian, only inches from his face. “That’s it. I’m sick of this. How dare you call into question my qualifications? The two of you lied to me and everyone else here the entire week! How dare you treat me like this? I’ve done nothing but try to help you. I’ve been transparent! I—”
Nicola stepped forward. “No, you haven’t.”
The wooden floor beneath them quivered as Sandrine stomped her foot in time with her words. “Yes. I. Have! What more do you want from me?”
Silence filled the tiny room. The wind blew a fresh squall of snow through the partially opened door. Taryn closed it and put her back against it.
Brian said, “I just don’t think a person who really understood trauma would put us all at risk the way you have this week. That’s the difference between someone who has only learned about it in textbooks and someone who learned about it first-hand.”
A muscle quivered in Sandrine’s jaw as she glared at him. “I do know about trauma first-hand.”
Nicola’s fingers reached for her wedding band but her gloves stopped her from twisting it. “You haven’t told us anything about yourself.”
Sandrine threw her arms in the air. Her cheeks flamed red. “Good God, we’re back to that again. I haven’t told you anything about myself because I am not the focus of this retreat. This isn’t about me, and as your guide on this retreat, it should never be about me, but fine! You want to know something about me? Here we go. You want trauma? You want my trauma? When I was a child, I was repeatedly assaulted. Different occasions, different men. It went on for years. It was devastating, physically and emotionally. It was nothing short of torture.”
“Oh my God,” Taryn gasped. She shifted the tote bag on her shoulder and lifted a hand to touch Sandrine but then decided better of it.
Josie was starting to feel warm with all of them crowded into the small space. Sensation returned to her toes and fingers. She watched as Brian’s gaze dropped to the floor. He tried to back away from Sandrine but there was no room.
“Oh, Sandrine,” Alice choked. “I’m so sorry.”
Josie said, “Me too. I’m sorry you went through that, and I’m sorry that you felt like you had to tell us when you shouldn’t have had to do so.”
“Oh shut up,” Nicola snapped. “Both of you. What are you even talking about, Sandrine? You lived a golden life. I mean, look at you! The picture of success.”
Josie thought about the conversation she and Sandrine had had in the rage room. How traumatic experiences changed you, irrevocably. What had it cost Sandrine to become so successful in spite of her trauma?
Sandrine shook her head. Tears gleamed in her eyes. Her posture sagged. “Lots of successful people have endured horrific things. I had to fight to be here.”
“Puh,” Nicola scoffed. “I don’t believe that.”
Alice pushed her way past Sandrine to get closer to Nicola. “Seriously, what is your problem? Sandrine doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not to a liar. You know what? You’re seriously unhinged.”
Nicola pointed at Sandrine. “I’m unhinged because I want to hear her story? She’s heard all of our stories. Every sordid detail. Why is it so unreasonable that I want to know hers?”
Alice shot Nicola a disbelieving look. “You are out of your mind.”
Sandrine remained calm. With one arm, she barred Alice from getting any closer to Nicola. With the other, she raised her palm. “It’s okay. Fine. You want my personal horror story? Here it is. My mother was drunk and neglectful and when she wasn’t those two things, she found a way to use me for her benefit.”
“Your mother?” Brian said. “No way.”
Everyone looked at him. “What?” he said. “I’m just saying what kind of mother would do that?”
“Lots of mothers do,” Josie mumbled. “You’d be horrified if you knew how many truly terrible mothers there are out there.”
“Yes,” Taryn said softly from the door. “Look at mine.”
Nicola glared at her. “Don’t make this about you.”
