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She chooses an oversize chair with a fleece blanket on it and snuggles underneath it.
“So Amelia, before we begin today, I want you to tell me again some of the things you have to live for.”
She sighs. “My future. The future that I want to make. A good family, with a man nothing like my father. And my photos. I used to love losing myself behind the camera.”
“Good. Good.” A good family and kind husband are things I can provide her with. And she can always take photos of Valentina as a creative outlet. “Okay, let’s work on the memories that have been giving you nightmares. Are you ready?”
She nods and pushes up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. The jagged scars are still red and angry. I prepare the injection, clean her arm, and push the fluid through. Within seconds, she visibly relaxes.
I sit and begin to speak in a quiet voice. “I want you to close your eyes, Amelia. Relax all of your muscles and let them become loose and limp. Now imagine yourself drifting on a calm river, with a gentle breeze wafting across your skin. Smell the air and allow yourself to relax more and more with each breath you take.”
She is breathing deeply now. “It feels so good to relax and let it all go,” I continue. “You are going deeper and deeper now, and you are open to my voice.”
She is very still, in a deep trance. “I want you to picture that day. You’re going to the door and ringing the bell. No one answers. You look inside, but no one is home. You’re not related to anyone in this house. You’re just going to visit your friend, whose name is Amelia. Your name is Cassandra, and your parents died in an automobile accident when you were only twelve. Amelia became your best friend, and you liked to pretend that her house was your house because you got moved around so much. But you’re Cassandra, and you don’t have to remember what happened to Amelia’s family. Go back to the day and knock on the door again. No one answers. Do you see?”
She moans. “No one’s there.”
“That’s right. You read about what happened in the paper. But it wasn’t your family. And you, Cassandra, did nothing wrong. Remind me of your name?”
“Cassandra,” she says.
We continue for another hour, building out her backstory and moments from the past we’re creating for her, before I bring her back.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Better,” she says, looking surprised. “Calmer.”
I walk over and take her hands in mine. “We still have a long way to go, but I’m optimistic.” By the time Valentina returns at the end of the summer, she’ll have a mother again.
− 52 −
Julian
“Tell me what you remember about our wedding,” I prod.
“It was lovely. Here at the house. We had chocolate cake, and I drank too much champagne.”
Amelia has been at home with me for three weeks now. I work with her for hours every day, much longer than is the norm, but in two months Valentina will be back home, and I need to fully convince Amelia that she’s Cassandra before she returns. I’ve made good progress; she moved into my bedroom three nights ago, and already believes she’s my wife. I’m working on implanting memories of Amelia with Valentina so that she accepts Valentina as her own when she is back. We’re in the middle of another session now. I’ve inserted a port in her arm to avoid having to stick her every day, and attached the IV to it.
“Was it a happy day?”
She smiles. “One of the happiest of my life.”
“Was your family there?”
A tear slides down her cheek as she shakes her head. “My parents died when I was young. I don’t have any other family.”
“But do you remember the necklace you wore? It was like having your mother with you. Visualize the pearls. A woman, your mother, giving them to you, and you’ve kept them safe, bringing them from house to house during all those years in foster care.”
“Pearls?”
“Yes, can you see them? They are a long strand, lustrous andbeautiful. And you were so happy to be wearing them on our wedding day.”
She smiles. “Yes. My mother’s pearls.”
Now when she looks back at our wedding portrait, into which I’ve photoshopped her face, and sees the pearls around her neck, she’ll believe it’s her. It will evoke a memory of her mother’s necklace.
“Now you have me and Valentina. Do you remember her birth?”