She gave me a small, therapist smile. “Your parents love you very much. I’m sure you missed them.” Her comments were leading, even demanding, and it made me want to pull back, be more careful.
“I did…” My voice trailed off and she cocked her head to the side, eyeing me. My heart rate kicked up at the dominance of her personality, and I found myself spilling information I had no intention of telling anyone. My voice broke. “I missed them at first, but after a while I had to stop thinking about them. It hurt too much, and I never thought I’d see them again.”
This revelation seemed to please her and she relaxed a little. I thought therapists were supposed to be gentle and kind. This lady seemed like she was not above using torture techniques to get people to talk.
“Does that make you feel a bit guilty seeing them?”
I dropped my eyes. “Yes.”
“And perhaps a bit undeserving and inadequate?” she asked.
“Yes,” I whispered. I couldn’t look up.
“That’s all normal to feel. I assure you. And it will pass, Angela. There may be times in your life where you still feel remnants of those emotions, but they will not always have the power they do at this moment.”
I chewed my lip and nodded. I wished I could skip right over all these emotions. I didn’t believe they’d ever leave me. How could I be good enough for anyone again? They’d never know me, the real me, because I’d never tell them all I’d done and seen. I felt like I could never be close to someone again.
“Was there anyone who you came to care for during your time of captivity? Anyone who, perhaps, befriended you?”
My sweet Josef. Oh, no. What would happen to him? And Perla and the other girls? Tears slid down each of my cheeks and I quickly swiped them, the familiar feeling of paranoia rising enough to dry my ducts.
“The other slaves. There were five of us. We couldn’t talk…I mean, not really. Not about anything important. But they were my friends.”
Don’t cry anymore, I chanted to myself as Agent MacDonald scratched something on her pad of paper.
“I know this is going to be difficult, Angela, but I need as much information as you can possibly give me about what happened from the moment you were taken to the moment you were rescued. Can you do that for me? This kind of information will aid our organization to help others in similar predicaments.”
My abdomen twisted at the thought of regular people knowing these things about me.
“You’ll be sharing this?” I hated how small and timid my voice sounded. “I thought there might be some sort of client confidentiality or something.”
She smiled at me. “That’s the case for regular private psychologists, but since I work for the government I’m here to help you, and to also help us. In the end it’s a win-win for all. Will you help us?”
I nodded. “I…yes. Okay.”
I felt like I was in that room with her forever. I tried to tell the facts like they weren’t raw and real. I skimmed over the sexual acts, even when she pressed for more information. I didn’t want to tell those details to anyone. Ever. I gave her the information I thought would be useful to them—the stuff about how and where I was held. How they controlled me. The names of people who came in and out. She dug for every detail of my first days, wanting to know exactly how they’d broken me down. I started to feel faint by the end of our time, and I’d only skimmed the surface.
She was an avid listener, eating up the details with rapt interest, every now and then throwing in a compassionate expression.
I jumped at a knock on the door and turned to see Mr. Douglas peek his head in. A spasm of joy zipped through me. His cool eyes met mine and for that moment my breath caught as he held my gaze before blinking and looking at the other Agent.
“You’ve been in here awhile.”
Her lips pursed, displeased. “We’re making good progress, but we’re not finished, so if you don’t mind—”
“Agent Abernathy brought dinner. I suggest you stop for a bit and eat.”
The woman looked at her watch and her eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at me and reluctantly nodded. “We’ll continue this later. Thank you, Angela.”
I quickly stood, and went to the door he held open. I watched as he took in the full sight of me dressed as a regular American girl with no make-up, and a smile skimmed his lips. It disappeared when Agent MacDonald cleared her throat, coming to stand near us. She gave him a sharp look.
“I won’t be staying for dinner, but I’ll return first thing in the morning. I’ll need to speak with you, as well, Agent Douglas—”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”