“And?”
“And I used regression, a hypnosis method, to help resolve past traumas.”
“Are you saying that Aunt and Uncle asked you to erase all my memories up to the fire?”
A sense of betrayal fills my chest at the thought of them doing something like that behind my back. They violated my mind. So what if they’re my guardians? That doesn’t give them the right to erase my past.
“Your aunt and uncle only called me to reduce the anxiety because they heard hypnosis helps.” He appears nostalgic. “They were desperate, especially your aunt. She looked ready to do anything to chase away your pain.”
“So what? Did you erase everything behind their backs?”
“No, Elsa.” Dr Khan gives me a quizzical stare. “I didn’t erase your memories. You did.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
My head won’t stop spinning after I exit Dr Khan’s office.
I still can’t wrap my mind around the last thing he said.
I only put you in a stance to resolve your traumatic experience, but when you woke up, your memories were gone.
My child version’s solution was to erase everything. Dr Khan said that sometimes when things are too much, the brain can resort to skipping over the traumatic parts. Suppressing memories becomes a vital need, not an option.
I was mentally and physically all over the place after the fire.
I entwine my fingers together as I walk down the hallway. Did I do the right thing?
How about Aunt and Uncle, then? They hid this truth from me for ten years. I doubt they would’ve told me anything if I didn’t put two and two together.
I can’t say I blame them, though. Since they swept me off from Birmingham, Aunt and Uncle did everything to protect me — to the point of overkill, sometimes.
Dr Khan said I needed to think carefully about restoring my memories. It’s a one-way road. He didn’t guarantee anything, but he can get me into a regression mode and help me access places in my subconscious that my consciousness isn’t even aware of.
When I came here, I was so sure that I wanted my memories back. However, after the story about Dr Khan’s other patient, Soho Miller, I’m not sure anymore. What if, like him, I open Pandora’s Box and discover things I’m not supposed to?
Besides, do I really want to relive my parents’ death? I shudder at the thought.
My hands itch, and the urge to wash them swipes over me. With jerky fingers, I open the small pocket in my backpack and retrieve my hand sanitiser. I pour half the bottle in my palm and scrub all over until it’s dried.
I release a breath when the itch slowly withers away.
Pocketing the hand sanitiser, I exit the building. I stumble to a halt on the pavement. Aiden’s car is parked across the street and he’s standing by the driver door talking to a familiar blonde-haired barbie doll.
Silver.
My nostrils flare and a violent rush shoots through my veins.
I stride across the street, trying not to break into a run.
Silver isn’t known to lose her cool. She’s pretty much the female version of Aiden. But right now, her hands fly all around her.
Aiden, on the other hand, appears bored. That should water down the fury bubbling through me, but it doesn’t. The fact that he’s even talking to her when he was supposed to pick me up sullies my mood. Did she come with him or something?
Facing Silver is really not what I want to do after the life changing talk I just had with Dr Khan, but if that’s what she wants, that’s what she’ll get.
“You promised, King.” She hisses.
“I said I’ll think about it,” he says.