It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t respond.
Not that I needed to.
My body told the truth.
Crossing her arms, she murmured, “What you tell me can remain off the record and be protected by client-doctor confidentiality, but it can also be used to help your case. The officer said you were beaten by the boyfriend of the girl you tried to rob, is that correct?”
I looped my fingers together and squeezed, ignoring the gravel abrasions on my palm. “Yes.”
“And before that? Do you want to tell me how you have bones nodules that are self-healed breaks without the aid of a cast or other medical supervision?”
No, I don’t want to tell you.
Yes, I do want to tell you.
God, I don’t know.
I was sick of hiding.
Perhaps if I’d given more of myself to Elder when he’d asked, he would’ve gotten what he needed to tolerate my presence for longer.
Maybe questions weren’t something to be feared anymore but a tool to somehow get better.
Rubbing my face with one hand while the other remained cuffed to the bed, I sighed heavily. “If I tell you, what will happen to me?”
Would I be sent to a psychiatric ward instead of jail?
Would my mother be told in explicit detail? Details I never wanted her hearing?
Dr Annaz softened. Moving forward, she perched on the bed beside me. She didn’t touch me, but her presence was comforting. “You get to decide. If you tell me in strictest confidence, I can provide advice that comes from years of study and experience, and we can leave it there. Or, if you feel you’re ready to take back whatever was stolen from you, then I’d probably suggest including Officer Grey and letting us help you.”
“Help me by putting me in prison?”
She shook her head. “Sometimes, we endure single events, and each event must be dealt with as such—either earning forgiveness or consequences. And other times, the things we survive aren’t single events at all but are joined in sequence that give an explanation to things that before had no answer.” She sighed before saying, “I won’t tell you what to do and I can’t tell you what will happen if you make either choice, but at some point, you need to trust that not everyone is out to hurt you.”
I didn’t know what part of her wise paragraph broke me.
Only that it did.
One moment, I sat stiff and stoic.
The next, I crumpled into silent sobs.
Forgiveness or consequence.
Single events or linked by sequence.
At some point…you need to trust.
I wanted so badly to trust.
Perhaps, it’s time to start…
Speaking around my tears, I admitted, “I was imprisoned for two years after being sold into sexual slavery.”
That sentence.
That confession.
It was the final blockade in the dam of agony.
Michelle Annaz took my hand and squeezed. That was all. She squeezed and stayed silent as I trembled with the knowledge that more people than just Elder knew now.
My ugly truth was out, and this woman treated me as if I was so, so strong for surviving it.
Dr Annaz asked her first question: “How?”
And I answered.
The rest of her questions turned into bees buzzing in my skull.
How long?
Where?
Who?
Why?
What was done to me?
My answers were the nectar those bees fed upon, slowly sweeping up the pollen that’d suffocated me for so long, flying away to churn into honey.
I was brutally honest and held nothing back, doing my best to stop the memories from having power over me.
And by the time I’d finished, I had no idea how much of the day had passed.
My head ached from the emotional purging, and my stomach had skipped past hunger into vacant emptiness.
“I have one last question for you, Tasmin. And I need you to think about your answer very carefully.”
I looked at Dr Annaz and the strictness on her weathered face. I waited for her to finish.
“Do you wish this to stay between us? Or are you happy for me to include Officer Grey?”
Once again, a question with two very different outcomes.
If my tale remained in this room, then my thievery and slavery would forever remain two separate events with no explanation about how or why I’d done what I did. But if I let others know, then their scolding would most likely turn to sympathy. They would have a deeper understanding that this wasn’t a separate event but part of a sequence—a sequence Elder had been a part of, and now these two women who’d taken the time to talk to me.
I didn’t do it for sympathy.
I did it for truth.
“Tell her. I want her to know.”
Without a word, Dr Annaz stood and disappeared out the door.
Ten minutes later, she returned with Carlyn Grey.
Both women gave me a gentle smile as Carlyn unlocked the cuff around my wrist and nodded at Dr Annaz. “I’ll escort you to the hospital and remain there while the tests are done.”