It was all that could fill the space between Alice and her doctor, her confession finally at its end and leaving them both in shocked silence.
Unable to handle the harsh reality of what she had done, Alice spoke first, her voice an intrusion into the peaceful stillness in the room.
“I think I did the right thing. Don’t you?” With pleading eyes, she stared at her doctor, whispers of accusation a symphony in her head while she waited for him to respond.
The doctor studied her for a brief period of time, concern and appraisal obvious in his calculating eyes. “I think you did what you believed you had to do. What other choice did you have?”
She nodded her head, tears slipping over cheeks that were chapped from the amount of times she’d cried. “I loved him more than anything, Doc. Destroying him destroyed me in the process. But he hurt so many women.”
A beat of silence between them, the sound of water dripping in the sink.
“Why didn’t you call the police, Alice? Why did you take the matter into your own hands?” He paused, his pen no longer tapping over the notebook in his lap. “How will you live with what you’ve done?”
Blinking away the liquid that blurred her vision, Alice shook her head. “He would have been locked up, Doc. Imprisoned and most likely killed. He didn’t deserve that, not after what his parents had done to him. I know what it feels like to be locked away. My father…” A sob tore through her chest, her eyes clenching shut at the memories assaulting her mind. “I know what that feels like, and I wasn’t going to do it to him. It was better this way. Better that the man I loved was freed from the monster. Perhaps in another life he can find the happiness he deserved.”
A tick of the clock drew the doctor’s attention, his head turning slightly to stare up at the timepiece on the wall. “Your time is almost up, Alice. You still have a few more minutes to do what needs to be done.”
Her face turned up towards the ceiling, Alice opened her eyes and stared at the perfect blankness of the white paint. Her body trembled in place on the couch, her heart beat slowing in rhythm until it was only a whisper of a pulse inside her chest.
“Is there anything else you should remember, Alice? Anything at all?”
She looked at Dr. Chance, a sad smile pulling at her lips. “I’ve remembered everything I need to remember, Doc. There is nothing that can make this better. Nothing so important that it will change what has already occurred.”
Nodding in understand, Dr. Chance said, “It’s time, Alice.”
Standing up, the doctor offered his hand and Alice reached up to accept the assistance. Pulled to her feet, she stood on shaky legs, her free arm wrapping around her abdomen, a false sense of security in the way she held herself together.
“Let’s go in the bathroom and get you cleaned up.”
As they stepped towards the door, Alice asked the doctor a question that had bothered her from the first moment she’d first walked through his door.
“Was it all for nothing, Doc? Max is dead. Delilah is dead. I didn’t save anybody.” Her voice trailed off, her steps over the carpet feeble and uncoordinated.
Still holding her hand, Dr. Chance squeezed her fingers between his, a weak attempt at consolation.
“I can’t answer that question, but what I do know is that your sister is still very much lost. You need to call somebody, Alice. You need to tell them where your sister’s body can be found.”
He stopped them both in their tracks, turning to her so he could lightly grip her shoulders and stare down at the small woman who has been his most difficult patient.
“Wasn’t that what you wanted in the beginning? To save her?”
Nodding her head, Alice swallowed, not sure if she was ready to take those final steps. Finding the strength, Alice pulled away from the doctor and said, “I should go.”
Giving her a solemn smile, the doctor backed away. But before Alice could take another step, he reached out to touch her arm and draw her attention to him.
“Why me, Alice? Why did you come to me with all of this?”
She smiled, the expression sorrowful, yet serene. “You were the person I looked to when I was young and got scared, Doc. You were the only person who understood and cared to help me make sense of my nightmares. You always were the voice of reason inside my head.”
The doctor nodded in understanding and released her arm, taking a few more steps back so that she could walk away.
When Alice turned to enter the bathroom, the scene around her changed. No longer an office with gray walls, white doors, a dark wood desk, and a white and beige striped couch, the room where she now stood was the bedroom that she and Max had shared. The transition was instantaneous, but that’s usually how all dreams worked.