Garret steps into the house, carrying a box.
The same box from the lake house.
I’d agreed that I’d hear Garret out and decide if I believe what he’s telling me to be truth.
“It’s not a lake house. It’s a facility.”
He places it down on the suitcase and opens the lid. It’s ratty and torn like I remember.
My hands wring together and an itch burns my flesh, akin to a thousand ants invading my pores and crawling under my skin.
“You remember who I am?” Garret asks, his expression hard but stoic, and I scoff, rolling my eyes.
Of course I know who he is.
“You’re my therapist and boyfriend.” I falter on the sentence.
We are that, right?
“I have been your therapist for three years. I’ve never been your boyfriend, Evi. When your birth mother died, you repressed all memory of the entire passing. You didn’t recall meeting her, visiting the hospital, or even knowing her.”
“Why?”
How can that be? Isn’t that what I’ve been searching for? A link to my past to give me some answers?
I try to ignore the “I’ve never been your boyfriend, Evi” because I don’t know if he’s just saying that because it’s frowned upon or if our relationship is all fabricated by my loneliness.
“It could be the trauma of the situation. You came away from her bedside with injuries.” He gestures to my hand and I instinctively lift it and rub at the half moon scars there.
Max lifts my hand and kisses over the marks, and my pussy throbs in response.
How can I even think about sex at a time like this? Thoughts of them sharing my body right here on the dirty floor has flickered into my mind like a flame, gaining strength the longer we remain in the room together. How damaged am I to even want that?
I take one step forward and two steps back.
“Why do I like sex and use people’s lust against them?” I sense Max stiffen and the room grow smaller around us.
I’ve always garnered attention from the male population, but beauty is just a magic spell to hide the ugly. My beauty is all that people see; it’s a shiny distraction used to blind people, and people use me because of it and I use it against them too.
Garret’s jaw tightens as he appraises Max.
“It’s okay, Garret. Just answer the question, please,” I beg.
“Promiscuous sexual behavior can be commonly seen in various mental disorders such as psychosis,” he tells me, his face unreadable as he looks between the two of us.
“So I’m crazy?”
“No, Evi. Not at all. You had a psychotic break. For someone who has been through trauma like yours, it’s not uncommon.”
“I want to know what’s in the box.”
Max squeezes my fingers to let me know he’s supporting me and that I’m in a safe zone. I can handle whatever it is.
“You received this box when your mother passed away. It was her only belongings.”
So not on my birthday?
Reaching inside, he pulls out some papers.
The news clipping that I read, and birth certificates.
I take them from him and my hand trembles as I flip through them, seeing they are my brothers’ and mine.
And then my mother’s.
Melanie Devil.
Mother: Ada Devil
Father: Nolan Devil
Pulling the next one to the top of the pile, cement solidifies my bones. My father’s.
Anthony Devil
Mother: Ada Devil
Father: Nolan Devil
My hands loosen, letting the certificates flutter to the floor.
I drop to the ground, my hands wrapping around my knees just to hold myself together, scared I’m going to evaporate into the air to save myself from the truths that just cause more damage.
“They were brother and sister,” I choke.
Flies invade my headspace and buzz their wings so loudly I place my hands over my ears to try and quiet the pandemonium.
Max fumbles around, picking up the papers and looking over them.
Don’t look. Don’t see what I am.
His sad eyes droop and his beautiful face turns to look at me.
Don’t look at me like that, Max. Please, just let me be normal.
“I want you to breathe in and out for me, Evi,” Garret tells me.
He moves closer to me and kneels in front of me.
Grasping my hand from my head, he turns the palm and places two fingers over the pulse in my wrist.
“Count with me, okay? And with every number, I want you to exhale.”
“One.”
Du dum. Du dum. Du dum. Du dum.
“Two.”
Du dum. Du dum. Du dum. Du dum.
“Three.”
Du dum. Du dum. Du dum.
“Four.”
Du dum. Du dum.
The rise and fall of my chest matches the gentle thrumming of his fingers tapping over my pulse.
Tears build in my eyes.
“Is there a letter?” I ask, and Garret releases me and nods his head in confirmation.
“I’m not sure you should read it though. It’s a lot for you to take in for one day.”
I need to read it. I need to know what it says. Does it read how I thought it did, or did I create a whole script for that too?
Lunging forward, I take the box and pull out the letters. Plural.
These weren’t there before, were they? There are loads of them, all addressed to the house I grew up in with my adoptive parents.
Pulling one from the envelope I read her words.
Evi,
I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did.
My brow crashes over my eyes and my nose scrunches.
What the hell is this?
I tear open another letter.
Evi,
I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did.
And another and another.
Evi,
I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did.
“What the hell is this?”
Silence.
“Where is the letter with the deeds to this house?” I demand, scrunching up the ones in my hand and throwing them to the ground.
Pity clouds Garret’s face and I want to slap it off.
“Garret?” I push.
“There is no such letter, Evi.”
Getting to my feet, I ignore the ache in my bones as I do.
I push my hand into my pocket.
“How would I have the keys?” I pull them out, holding them up.
Silence.
My head swivels from one to the other. Max’s frown is so prominent on his head it transforms his face, creating creases around his eyes.
I drop my hand and look down at the bundle in my palm.
Thud…
I want to scream.
Run.
Cry.
Chase away this nightmare in the lake, swim it all away.
I’m losing my mind and they’re just standing there watching it happen.
The bundle of keyrings in my hand is a collection of useful tools. There’s no key.
Carrying my feet to the front door, I swing it open, the latch giving away with a gentle push.
Wood that once was nailed across the lock is dislodged.
You don’t need a key to get in; I must have broken the wood away and broke in.
No.
I remember not being able to get the key in the door and having to re-try.
Do I even own this house?
“So whose house is this?” I pin Garret with my glare.
“As far as I could determine, it belongs to the bank.”
Oh my God.
How can I have lost my way so badly?
I’m decomposing in here somewhere and this isn’t real. I’m a ghost haunting the space, surely?
“Evi.” Max’s voice thunders through my haze.
I want to call to him.
I’m fading, save me, but it’s all too much and my lips won’t form the words.
Can he even help me? My soul is so heavy it’s crippling me.
“What happened to my parents?” I look up at Garret, ready to hear the truth about what set this all in motion.
I try to cling onto an image of them, an emotion to strike inside me, but it’s behind a sheen, a window keeping me from experiencing what lies on the other side.
“They were on the express train that derailed and killed nearly three hundred passengers.”
No. No. No.
Pain bleeds into my heart and the wings of the trapped bird inside flutters madly, trying to break the confines and fly free, escape the agony his words bring.
The article in the papers. The news on the radio.
Dark shadows creep around my skull. A sinkhole inside my chest opens and sucks all the sanity into it.
Flashes of myself on a campus play like a movie before my eyes.
Not happy, but a content me, studying and training.
“I was in school. A swimming scholar.” I exhale. Oh my God, how could I have just erased that from my own life?
“We should arrive at four-thirty. Are you coming to pick us up at the train station, darling?”
“They were coming to visit me.” Gasping for air, I pinch at my skin to prove to myself that I’m living, because this feels like dying.
I’ve been walking in a daze of falsehood. Nothing is real.
I’m a swimmer. I have a coach who thinks I can be Olympic material. Coach Russell.
Oh God, Coach Russell. And yet I deleted him like an eraser over paper, expunging half the story.
Nausea swirls unrestrained inside my stomach, burning up, setting my chest ablaze.
My lips pucker with half-formed questions. Answers. Regrets.
Blood congeals like tar in my veins, struggling to keep a steady heartbeat inside my ribcage.
I was living in my sorrow, a storm that kept raining down on me without mercy, and I couldn’t pull myself through it.
I got so lost, so broken when they died.
“You had an emotional break, Evi and I recommended Doctor Holst’s facilities for you to take some time and get more full time help that you needed.”
Doctor Edward.
So he’s real?
“I need to go there.”
“Where?”
“The lake house,” I say urgently.
I need to see for myself that it’s a delusion created from my own sorrow to try and protect myself from experiencing the pain of it.
“Garret, please!”
He brings his cell phone from his pocket and runs his finger over the screen. “I can take you there on the fifth?”
That’s three days from now.
“I need to go now.” I look to Max pleadingly.
“I will take you.”
I want to apologize to him.
Explain that I don’t want to be crazy, that being with him wasn’t part of my illness.
That I care about him and feel more for him than I have ever felt for anyone. But words stick in my throat like glass and all I can do is offer him a broken smile as I swipe the mourning falling from my eyes.
“I need to pack some things and then we can go today.”
“I wish you would wait and let me come with you, Evi. You still have so much we have yet to delve into. Unlocking your past has always been what we were working towards in our sessions.”
“I need to see the lake, Garret. Come with us.”
Do this for me. Don’t make excuses and just come with me, goddammit. I’m your patient if nothing else, and I need you to come with me.
“I can meet you there tomorrow?”
Tomorrow.
“Thank you for coming here,” I tell him honestly.
“Are you sleeping, Evi. Did something happen at Greenfield? Was it Daniel’s disappearance? Do you know where he is?”
Daniel?
Yes.
No.
What does it matter now?
“He died. Suspected drowning, a year ago.”
His face twists in confusion. And I know I’m wrong. That isn’t what happened.
I don’t want to hear the sounds coming out of his mouth anymore.
“He disappeared two weeks ago, Evi.”
No. That’s incorrect. I need to see Edward.
“I will see you tomorrow, Garret.”
“It’s Doctor Osmond.”
“You don’t allow me to call you, Garret?” The name Osmond doesn’t ignite any familiarity.
His mouth twitches into a half grin and he rubs a hand at the back of his neck.
“I try to keep things as professional as possible for your own benefit, but you have always played with your own set of rules.”
He places a hand down on my shoulder and thoughts of him flutter like a butterflies wings bringing new beauty with each stroke.
Memory after memory glimmer behind my eyes.
“I want to fuck you, Doc. Is that normal?”
“Lust is a common trait amongst us all, Evi. Don’t fight it or be ashamed of feeling it. Just learn to harness it better.”
“I dream about you. We’re a couple and live on the lake so I can swim all day and you can write your medical journals.”
“It’s an escape for you but unhealthy to see me that way. You know that can’t happen. Do you want to discuss why authority figures are appealing to you?”
“I already know, Doc. Daddy issues.”
“Tell me what you remember about your birth father.”
“Nothing solid, just a daunting, hopelessness encasing me whenever I let him conquer the spaces in my mind. He steals the light.”
“That light is yours. No one can take it from you. It’s safe to think about him in here.”
The floor creaks, shattering the hold Garret just had over me as Max’s feet stomp across the room and he takes my hand in his.
“Let’s get some things packed and hit the road. Bye, Doctor Olmond,” Max growls
“It’s Osmond,” Garret says.
And then the heat of the day is back, burning through my thin clothes as Max helps me into his truck and slams the door closed.
The keys are still in the ignition and guilt trickles over me. I shouldn’t have taken his truck without asking.
“I’m sorry about Gracie. Your father and that witch, Miss Bloom.”
The atmosphere is tense and I hate how different everything feels now compared to our happy place this morning.
“None of that matters. None of them matter. You matter.”
I matter?
“I know there’s more to our childhood then you’re willing to share and more than I’m able to remember, but I do feel it, Max.”
His hand slips into mine but his eyes remain fixed on the road stretching out before us.
“I know you’re who I belong with,” I add and close my eyes.
Sleep is scarce and scattered and my body is drained and exhausted.
I don’t want to dream; the memories torture me there, but my eyes close anyway.