Page 6

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L aughter. Lots of it. And drinking. Shots of harsh liquor. Perhaps too much. Followed by more giggling.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun.

With her friends.

They were her friends. Or at least that’s what she thought, even if this entire thing was as if she were on the outside looking in.

Or perhaps a black-and-white movie. A drive-in.

Whatever. It didn’t matter.

She roasted a marshmallow over an open flame while sipping wine out of a red solo cup. Life didn’t get any better than that.

Out of nowhere, a constant ringing filled her ears. It grew louder and louder, muffling out the conversation that she struggled to hear in the first place. She leaned across the campfire but couldn’t make out the words.

Her friends waggled their fingers.

They shook their heads. Their faces had expressions of disappointment.

Were they yelling?

She craned her neck, trying to hear the words her friends were saying, but everything was muffled as if she were under water. However, there was no mistaking the daggers being flung from her friends’ eyes.

A dark cloud hovered over Odessa. It swirled and twisted, stretching black fingers from the sky, snatching up her friends, leaving her alone.

The fire blew out. The surroundings changed in a flash. She was no longer sitting in front of her tent. No. She was barefoot and running.

But from what?

“Odessa,” the wind whispered her name. Or was it a man? She couldn’t tell. “You can’t hide. I’ll find you.”

It was cold. It was dark. Only the moon and the stars guided her through the thick brush. Tree limbs smacked her body. Roots lunged from the ground, grabbing her feet and forcing her to fall to her knees.

“I’m coming for you, Odessa. You can run, but you can’t hide,” the sinister voice said as a sharp pinprick jolted into her neck.

The world went black.

Odessa gasped and jerked upright. She sucked in a deep breath, blinking. Her chest hurt. She rubbed the side of her neck. It felt as though someone had stuck her with a needle.

She glanced toward the window. The faint glow of the sun beginning to rise filtered through the glass pane. The dream played over in her mind. It was a hodgepodge of images that didn’t make sense.

Was it a memory?

A nightmare that had no bearing on her current situation other than she was utterly terrified. Quickly, she gathered her pen and journal and jotted down what she could remember. It wasn’t much. She did what Jenna suggested and didn’t worry too much about making sense of it. She didn’t write in complete sentences. Just jotted down as many details as she could, even though she worried everything was out of sequence.

Setting the notebook aside, she stared at the phone that Thane had bought. Throughout the night, it had given her great comfort, knowing she had a lifeline to the world outside this room. To a person who could connect the dots to her past.

She pulled up the text string with Thane. In the last message he’d sent, he’d told her to do her best to get some sleep, but that he’d leave his cell on in case she needed him. He mentioned that he found her suitcases, but he hadn’t said where he’d found them. Only that he’d fill her in on the details when he picked her up in the morning to bring her back to his place.

Her fingers shook as she contemplated sending a message. Outside of Jenna, Anita, and the nice nurses at the hospital, she didn’t know who she could trust.

Grant hadn’t come back to visit. Nor had he called.

She’d been engaged to him and she thought it was odd that he didn’t seem to care, but she couldn’t remember anything about their relationship. All she had was the bad vibe that he gave her and that was enough to make her not want anything to do with him in this moment.

Thane, on the other hand, gave her mixed emotions. He was kind and had soft eyes. But she also knew there was something else there. A hint of something negative in their past and that drove her crazy.

Odessa: Are you awake?

Thane: Yes. Is everything okay?

Did she dare tell him about the dream? Did she wait for Jenna and tell her? Or the police? Haven gave her a warm fuzzy feeling and at the same time projected a badass bitch spirit.

Fuck it.

Odessa: I had a bad dream. It was about camping.

Thane: Did you do what the doctor suggested and put what you can recall in your journal?

Leave it to him not to badger her about whatever she’d remembered. Why she thought he was sensitive that way, she had no idea.

Odessa: Yes.

She didn’t know what else to say about that.

Thane: That’s good. Do you want to talk about it? You can call me if you want.

Odessa: I’m not sure I want to relive it right now.

Thane: I understand. I need to jump in the shower. Then I’m having breakfast with my mama. I’ll be at the hospital around ten to bring you home. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. Okay?

Odessa: Do you always call your mom, mama?

She smiled. Of course he did. A vision of sitting around a dinner table with his mama, his father, him—with his long hair—and her parents, filled her mind. They passed around plates filled with food. They were smiling. Laughing. It brought a tear to her eye.

Thane: I’ve been accused of being a mama’s boy my whole life. I wear that title with pride. You used to think it was cute.

Odessa: I believe I still do.

Thane: I’ll see you soon. :)

Odessa set the cell aside, dropped her head back, closed her eyes, and hoped for another memory. Any faint image would do.

But none came.

The door swished open, startling her. She gripped the sheets and blinked. Her heart hammered in the center of her chest. It thumped so hard it hurt. She hated being so scared. But she had no idea if this was normal. Maybe she had anxiety issues. Maybe she’d always been afraid of her own shadow.

Or maybe this was simply because she didn’t know shit about her life and her friends were dead.

That thought caught in her throat.

“Good morning,” Jenna said. “How was your night?”

“Not great,” Odessa admitted. “I’m getting tired of not knowing or understanding my thoughts.”

Jenna pointed to the journal. “May I?”

“Of course, but it’s a jumbled mess of dreams and thoughts that I can’t connect.”

“Like I told you yesterday, that will come with time.” Jenna flipped through the four pages of notes. “The important thing is that your mind is allowing you to have memories.” She set the notebook aside. “That dream must have been terrifying for you.”

“It startled me awake. But I’m not sure it’s a full memory. Nothing feels like anything other than a snippet here or an old photograph there where I’m not exactly sure of the details. Is that normal?”

“Unfortunately, everyone is different.” Jenna leaned against the bed. “I’m going to have my secretary set up a schedule for you. I want to see you a few times a week to start. The first few sessions we’ll just talk. If we haven’t made much progress, I’d like you to consider hypnosis.”

“Does that really work?”

“It can, in some cases.”

“I’m willing to do anything,” Odessa said.

“That brings me to my next question. Do you want me to call Grant and tell him what time I’m releasing you?”

“No.” The fact that Odessa said that so swiftly and with confidence meant something. She wasn’t sure exactly what, but it felt so damn fucking good to belt out that one single word. “Something feels off between him and me, and not just the breakup or the whole bottle-throwing thing. When I think about him, I get a weird vibe through my bones.”

“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you control your life. It’s your choice where you go. From here on out, you get to decide what you do.”

Odessa was tired of hearing that. Not only did she have no idea who she was as a woman, but she didn’t know what she did for a living. Nor did she have any idea what kind of financial situation she was in. She was an adult toddler, reliant on everyone. The only way she could reclaim her life was to regain her memories and find out what happened to her friends.

The machine monitoring her heart rate beeped a little faster, in tune with her growing frustration.

“I want to go through my stuff that Thane said the police found, but it’s been taken as evidence and he doesn’t know when I’ll get it back.” Odessa sighed. “Do you think I could be blocking out what happened because I did something bad? Is it possible that I could be the reason my friends are dead?”

“My job isn’t to make judgments or jump to conclusions about what happened on your camping trip.” Jenna held up a finger. “I believe something traumatic happened. Do I personally believe you, the Odessa I know outside of being your doctor, could have hurt your friends? No. I don’t think that’s possible. Not under normal circumstances.”

“That sounds like you think it’s possible under a specific set of conditions.”

Jenna nodded. “I’ve been involved in a few forensic cases when it comes to the complexities of the mind. Inherently, you are a good person. I can say that without a doubt, even though we were not friends. We were not close. But most people in this town respect you. Like you. Value you. You’re the kind of person the community rallies for, not against.”

“But it’s possible I snapped.” Odessa pulled up the images of the nightmare. They were blurry and flashed across her brain at lightning speed. She tried to slow them down. To pluck out the important ones. Or ones that had to do with what happened to Chrissy and Sylvia, but those raced through her mind even faster. As if her subconscious didn’t want her to know the details.

“Those are your words, not mine.” Jenna arched a brow. “And it’s certainly not a clinical term.”

“Have you heard from the therapist I used to see? The one I scheduled an appointment with?” Odessa asked with desperation laced on every syllable.

“I’ve made a formal request for the files. Unfortunately, Doctor Borden is out of town until this evening. If it’s okay with you, I might ask her to join one of our sessions.”

“Whatever it takes to get my memories back. Even if I am responsible for what happened, I want to know. This massive void in my head is making me insane.”

“I do all my therapy sessions here at the hospital. I generally only see patients two days a week, but I told my secretary to make an exception where you’re concerned.” Jenna glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I’ve got to get going. I’ll start on your discharge papers. I should be able to stop by before you leave this morning.”

“I’m sure you’re just doing your job, but to me, it feels like you’re going above and beyond. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

“This is a unique case because two women were murdered. The police are stuck between a rock and a hard place. I understand where they are coming from. They need information. But my first priority is to my patient.” Jenna smiled, patting her leg. “Try not to stress. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Once Jenna was out of the room, Odessa found the remote to the television. She pointed and clicked. The first thing that came up was some woman reporting on the murders.

Wonderful.

She turned up the volume.

“…police have stated that they have interviewed a person of interest, but they are not willing to release the person’s name. I’ve personally spoken to a few hikers who were camping in the area of the murders and they have confirmed that there were three women. Two of those women, Christina Kaymen and Sylvia Wilkerson, are dead. More than one eyewitness has confirmed that the third woman was socialite Odessa Hayes. I’ve learned that Odessa is no longer engaged to Grant Mercer. We’ve reached out to Grant but have yet to hear back. We have no other information at this time. We will report any new information to the public as soon as we know something. This is…”

Odessa turned the volume down. Her name was out there for all to judge. Everyone in this town knew more about her life than she did.

Her heart squeezed. Darkness filled her mind. Then a bright light. Then darkness again. It wasn’t your typical blackness. It was an eerie void of death, marred with flashes of bright-white lights. Like a strobe pulsating in the distance, barely enough to illuminate wherever this possible memory took her.

The sound of something tearing filled her ears. It was a long rip, followed by a short one.

Stifled cries.

“There you are,” a dark, dangerous voice echoed in the recesses of her mind. It was low. It howled like the wind rolling down the waterway, whistling as he rustled the leaves. “You brought this on yourself.”

She lifted her gaze. A hazy image leaned over her. It was familiar, but she couldn’t make it out.

And then the prick of her skin.

It burned.

Just as quickly as the memory came, the images disappeared.

She jotted it down but decided not to say anything to Thane. They could have that conversation later. Right now, she wanted to focus on something positive and Gayle had said all the photos they left were happy memories. So she reached for the scrapbook and opened it, but her mind didn’t flood with childhood memories.

Sure, images flashed. They were two-dimensional and had no context. No meaning.

She tried to remind herself that she was moving forward. That even the tiniest of a memory was still progress. But that didn’t ease the anguish in her soul.