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Josie said, “Think. Is there anything that might have happened—even if it is being misconstrued by them—that would drive them to seek you out like this, in these particular conditions? Maybe a patient with a bad outcome? Something like that?”
“What do you mean?” asked Sandrine. “You think they’re related to a former patient?”
“Possibly. Have you had any issues with patients? Maybe a situation where the patient hurt themselves or someone else? Something that might make their family members think that you were a fraud?”
Sandrine scoffed. “I treat patients with complex PTSD, Josie. Of course I’ve had patients with tragic outcomes. I’ve been practicing for decades. Yes, I’ve had patients who died by suicide. I have treated patients with homicidal ideation though none have ever crossed that line. At least not that I am aware. What I have never experienced is a family member of one of those patients questioning my methods. The loved ones of my patients always understand just how badly their family member is affected by PTSD. They’re usually relieved to know that they’ve come to me to work on it.”
Josie could not discount the idea of a disgruntled patient or the family of such a person being the reason behind this week’s machinations, but what if it was more personal than that?
“Why did you change your name?” Josie asked. “Was it because of your mom?”
“Yes, I didn’t want my mother’s name. I didn’t want to be associated with her. You don’t know how it was to have people find out she was my mother. They would get so excited and ask all these questions, thinking she must have been so amazing and it must have been so glamorous to grow up with her when, in reality, it was torture. She was a monster. Once I was free, I never wanted anything to do with her at all.”
“She was—she’s passed away?”
Sandrine nodded. “During my sophomore year of college.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Josie said automatically.
“Don’t be,” said Sandrine. “It set me free, finally.”
“What was her name?” Josie asked.
“Why? Do you think this has something to do with my mother? How? It’s been decades and these people aren’t even old enough to remember her. I mean Taryn, Brian, and Nicola are all in their thirties and forties. They were just kids when she passed away. They’ve probably never heard of her.”
Low chatter interrupted them. Josie lifted her head to see Nicola and Alice on their feet. Alice motioned to the bathroom. A discussion ensued and then she stomped off toward it alone. Nicola sat back down, arms folded, watching for Alice’s return.
Josie waited until Alice was back in her seat before continuing their whispered conversation. “You said she was an actress. Was she wealthy? Maybe these people found out you were her daughter and they think you’re hiding that? Their intention could have been to blackmail you with that information, for all we know.”
Sandrine gave her head a small shake, her hair swishing against the pillow. “I suppose it would make a splash in the press if it came out that respected psychologist and trauma specialist, Dr. Sandrine Morrow was actually Lola Stowe, the daughter of Delilah Stowe. But I wouldn’t pay someone to keep the secret.”
“Delilah Stowe,” Josie said. “That sounds familiar.”
Sandrine rolled her eyes. “I forgot. Her name was back in the press a couple of years ago. When she was young, she starred in a bunch of films with this very famous actor, Dean Thurman. He was married to a bona fide Hollywood starlet but he cheated on her with my mother. It was very scandalous at the time. A black mark on Thurman’s career. It was worse for my mother. In the press she was accused of seducing him. A homewrecker, they called her. That’s why her name always comes up when his does. Then, a few years ago, someone on his staff accused him of sexual assault. A housekeeper, I believe. He was quite old at the time but that never stops men like him. The housekeeper filed charges against him. Then a civil lawsuit. As soon as it hit the press, there were a dozen more women across decades accusing him of sexual misconduct, assault, rape.”
“I remember that,” Josie said. “The press coverage was endless. I remember Delilah Stowe being mentioned as well.”
“Yes,” said Sandrine. “The entire relationship between her and Thurman was re-examined through today’s lens. People started to wonder if they’d gotten the narrative all wrong back then since my mother was so young, a co-star, and Dean was married. Journalists wrote about it. Maybe she wasn’t some wanton vixen who had lured him away from his marriage bed. Maybe he was the one who had coerced her into an inappropriate relationship. I was too young and too worried about my own survival to notice. The point is that her name was on everyone’s lips again.”
“That’s why I recognize it,” Josie said.
“But Josie, my mother wasn’t wealthy. She always did a good job of making it look like she was well-off but she wasn’t. She squandered everything she ever made. She never earned much in residuals, even on her bigger films. Certainly not enough to live on. Near the end, she was destitute. She married a carpenter. Claimed that she actually loved him and that she was done being in the public eye. All they had was his salary and it wasn’t much. It’s not like she left me some grand estate. She left me with nothing but scars.”
Josie nodded her head toward the others in the room. “But they wouldn’t know that.”
Sandrine groaned softly. “This is absurd. This can’t be happening because of my mother.”
“I didn’t say it was,” Josie replied. “It was just a theory.”
“Here’s a more likely theory,” Sandrine said. “These people are lunatics. Josie, what kind of crazy people pretend to be someone else to come on a retreat to process trauma just to speak to me? Have you considered how insane that sounds? I’ve got an office. They could have just made appointments. They could have just looked up my home address and knocked on my door! Taryn came to three of my seminars! She had plenty of opportunity to speak with me after each one. Why go to all this trouble? It makes no sense!”
Josie shushed her again. “Keep your voice down. I agree, something is very off in this situation and if it was a single person, then yes, I’d say maybe they’re dealing with a mental health issue but it was three of them, Sandrine! Three people. This was coordinated. They clearly believe you have something that they want.”
“This is ridiculous!” Sandrine said. “I can’t believe Meg and Taryn lost their lives over this foolishness. Oh God, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’m sorry to say that to you, Josie. I’m supposed to be the calm one, the strong one, your therapist for the week. But now I just want to go home.”
“I know,” Josie replied. “Me, too. Sandrine, what if we just confronted them?”
“What?”
