“God, poor Artie. She must’ve been so afraid. She trusted me, and...”
“Corinne, don’t. She’s okay now. And I’m here, and I’m not leaving, and everything is okay.”
I want to ask him why that little muscle in his jaw is ticking, the one that ticks only when he’s upset. But I know why.
I’m some sort of monster.
47
Now
Corinne
Reflections Mental Facility
“Joe Gibson raped you,” Dr. Phillips repeats. I nod, and the movement is painful.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Did your father save you?”
I focus focus focus.
“No,” I say, surprised as I remember. “He didn’t. My father told the police that he killed Joe Gibson. But he didn’t.”
I did.
I stare at my hands, the hands that have saved so many lives in the ER, but they are hands that took a man’s life.
“What happened?”
“I... There was a heavy crystal owl on the nightstand next to the lamp. I didn’t even think... I was just trying to get away. I grabbed it and bashed it into the back of his head. He collapsed on top of me, and he was dead. I couldn’t get out from under him. He was too heavy.”
The shock, the memories, the horror...it all encompasses me like a blanket made from stone. I can’t lift my shoulders, I can’t breathe.
“Take a deep breath,” the doctor instructs me. “In, then out. Fill your lungs, then push it all out.”
I do that a few times.
“Better?”
I nod.
“What happened next?”
“My father burst into the room. With Melanie. I don’t know why they came to the house. I don’t know. But they came in just as I was shoving Joe off. He rolled onto the bed, and his eyes were wide-open.”
I squint my eyes, trying to see the past, trying to see through the murkiness of my brain. My heart pounds pounds pounds, and the adrenaline pulses, and my feet want to run run run.
Melanie’s screams...they’re in my head, just like it was yesterday, and I can’t un-hear them. So shrill, so anguished.
“Melanie...she came flying at me. She didn’t understand. She was hysterical. She was scratching at me. Her thumbnail scratched my hand.”
I finger my hand where it was cut that night.
“So that’s how you got the cut on your hand?”
I nod. “Yeah. She tried to come at me, and she was hysterical. My father grabbed her...”
“Yes?”
“He shoved her away from me, and her head hit the corner of the dresser. It was sharp. And...she...just... She died,” I say limply. “I think it was instantaneous. She just died.”
“How did your father react?”
“He was in shock. He...he dropped to his knees and gathered her into his arms, and he held her for a few minutes. He just stared at me, and I think... I think he hated me in that instant. I saw it in his eyes.”
“But it wasn’t your fault,” Dr. Phillips says, ever calm. “Surely he didn’t hate you. He was probably in shock.”
“I was, too,” I tell him. “I lost my virginity and killed a man in the same night. I was raped. And I killed someone.” I’m numb as I try to wrap my mind around that fact. “I wonder how much trouble I’ll be in.”
Dr. Phillips shakes his head. “It was self-defense. You were eighteen years old. You had repressed memories, something that I can attest to in court, if need be. I don’t think you’ll need to worry about it. And certainly, I don’t want you worrying about it in this moment. Let’s just process it, shall we?”
I don’t know if I can. It’s too much. It’s so much. But I don’t want to voice that.
“The human brain is an amazing thing,” I say instead. “All of these years, my own brain has been protecting me.”
Dr. Phillips nods. “It is an incredible thing. But now we have to finally come to terms with it. So that you can finally be free, Dr. Cabot.”
I swallow. It’s true. It’s affected me for yours, even if I didn’t know the cause.
“I don’t know if I can be free,” I admit. “It’s a lot to carry.”
His eyes are sympathetic, and it almost makes me feel worse, that my situation is so bad that a cold person like Dr. Phillips feels sympathy.
“Would you like to stop our session early?”
I grit my teeth. I’d like to stop it and never come back. I’d like to unsee my memories. I’d like to undo the past. But those things aren’t possible. And I need to know everything.
“No,” I say almost defiantly. “I’m almost there. I can feel it. I’ve almost remembered everything. Let’s finish.”
“I’m going to call your husband so that he can be here when we’re finished.”
I nod quickly. “Yes, please.”
I wait while he dials, and it’s quickly clear that Jude isn’t answering. The doctor leaves a message. When he’s finished, he looks up.
“Is there anyone else you’d like for me to call? I really don’t want you to be alone this evening. You need a friendly face.”
I think about that. I’d like for Jackie to be here, but she’s gone with Teddy to Napa.
Since Jude didn’t answer, he was probably with Michel, so Michel won’t answer, either.
There’s only one other person I can think of.
“My friend Lucy.”
48
Now
Jude
Through the window, I stare as the coroner’s van loads up my brother.
They zip him into a black bag and take him away, slamming the van doors behind him, and now he’s gone.
I’m in shock.
I can’t feel my feet.
I can’t feel my heart.
I can’t feel.
I’m in complete and utter shock.
“Mr. Cabot?” The detective stares at me, waiting. “Do you have any idea who might want to hurt your brother?”
“No, I don’t. Everyone loves him. Loved him. He’s a priest, for God’s sake.”
Was a priest.
Oh my God, my brother is dead.
This can’t be real.
But then something...something...something jumps into my mind, and I can’t breathe. Zoe’s text from last night.
You’ll always regret it if you do.
I’ll make you regret it.
She basically was saying she’d make me pay if I listened to my brother.
I stare at the bloodstain on the floor, and at the stone crucifix that is splattered in his blood.
“Could a small person have done this?” I ask hesitantly. The detective looks at me.
“Yeah. If he was caught by surprise, anyone could’ve done it.”
I feel sick to my stomach as I examine that possibility. It can’t be. It can’t...
“What are you thinking?” he asks me, waiting.
I hesitate and then tell him of my involvement with Zoe, and of how she threatened to blow everything out of the water if I didn’t stay with her, and how Michel took her from my house last night.
His expression changes, and am I imagining that he’s looking at me differently now?
“So he was upset with you last night?”
I nod. “Yeah. But not as upset as I was with myself.”
The detective’s face is expressionless.
“Did you argue?”
Shock slams into me. “Jesus, man. I didn’t hurt my brother. I love my brother. He’s my twin, my other half. I’m going to be lost without him. What the hell?”
The detective is calm. “I’m just doing my job, Mr. Cabot. We’ll look into Zoe. And I hope you’ll be around for further questions if we have them.”
“Of course I will,” I snap. “I want whoever did this to pay.”
He leaves, and I walk to my truck, and I’m limp as I slump behind the wheel.
What am I supposed to do now?
My phone is in my pocket, and it buzzes with a voice mail, and I listen to Dr. Phillips’s voice.
“Corinne is having a rough session. It would be nice if you could come be here for her when she’s finished. Give me a call.”
I don’t bother calling. I just head for Reflections. I drive down the road, and when I’m passing my neighborhood, I’m so overcome by anger and rage and grief that I can’t even see straight. Red billows in from the corners of my eyes, and I can’t think one coherent thought. That’s why it takes a while for me to notice the car behind me is gaining on me, and flashing its lights.
I startle, my first thought being that it’s Zoe, but it’s not a Hyundai.
I pull over, and Chelsie bounds out of her car at me.