Chapter 8
Harris found the clinic first.
It had changed names twice.
New paint.
New owner on paper.
Same basement records.
The place where Claire woke after the crash had been a private recovery center owned by a company linked to Peter Lang.
My medical records were there too.
Not the ones Caroline showed me.
The real ones.
I sat in Harris’s office while he placed them in front of me.
Traumatic memory disruption.
Medication intervention.
Restricted visitors.
Patient suggestible.
My hands went cold.
“Suggestible?”
Harris nodded.
“They drugged you after the accident.”
“Caroline?”
“And a doctor named Samuel Voss.”
I remembered Dr. Voss.
Kind voice.
Silver glasses.
He told me grief caused dreams.
He told me the woman I saw in flashes was not real.
He told me to trust Caroline because she had stayed by my side.
I stood.
“Where is he?”
“Being located.”
That was detective language for we missed him too.
I went home to Ethan’s and found Claire teaching Lily how to braid Mia’s hair.
Noah sat under the table with crackers.
The sight nearly split me open.
This was what they stole.
Not only time.
Ordinary time.
Hair.
Snacks.
Sisters.
I told Claire about Voss after the kids slept.
She went quiet.
“He came to the room sometimes.”
“What did he do?”
“Asked if I remembered the crash. If I remembered what you said. If I felt guilty.”
“Guilty for what?”
Her face tightened.
“For surviving.”
I looked away.
She touched my hand.
Just one finger.
A tiny contact.
Then she pulled back.
“Ryan, what if you never remember me?”
The question had been between us since the hospital.
I wanted to lie.
I wanted to tell her memories would return because love deserved that kind of mercy.
But she had survived too many lies.
“I don’t know.”
She nodded.
Painfully.
I added, “But I believe you. And I know what I feel when I look at you is not nothing.”
May you like
Her eyes filled.
“That’s enough for tonight.”
