image
image
image

CHAPTER ONE

image

MONDAY

“I’m worried I’m going to go crazy...” Nina shifted uncomfortably in her therapist’s brown leather armchair. “Again.”

Dr. Austin scribbled on the yellow pad that rested on her knee. She placed her pen down then eyed Nina. “Tell me more.”

Nina sighed. Her gaze darted around the neat mid-sized office overlooking downtown Palo Alto. “It’s a fear that never leaves me.”

Dr. Austin nodded. “I know. How does that feel?”

Nina pushed her curly locks behind her ear and focused on Dr. Austin’s intense-but-kind blue eyes. “It feels as though I’m going to lose control of my mind. And I can’t!” Though thick books on the wide bookcase absorbed the sound of Nina’s raised voice, she lowered it. “Again. My husband can’t go through that. It’s a miracle he even reconciled with me, but our marriage is shaky after what happened. The girls can’t go through that, especially since they’re just starting to trust that Mommy’s okay. I certainly can’t go through that. I’m still not fully recovered after my breakdown.”

“I hear you, and you know I’m here to help. Things don’t have to get out of control the way they did during your breakdown last year. I know the medication has alleviated most of the severe symptoms like your delusions, distorted thinking, and mood shifts. Sometimes, people get so much better on the medication that they think they don’t need to take it anymore. This can lead to a relapse. Are you still taking your medication and in contact with your psychiatrist?” Dr. Austin asked.

“Of course. I’m fully aware that I will probably take medication for the rest of my life to manage this. I definitely wouldn’t just stop taking it.” Nina hoped Dr. Austin didn’t peg her as irresponsible. Nina’s sanity meant everything to her.

Dr. Austin raised her thin eyebrows. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just covering all the bases.” She tapped her pen on the pad. “I know that there’s a tough anniversary coming up. Do you think that has anything to do with these feelings?”

Tears welled up in Nina’s eyes. “Maybe.”

Dr. Austin grabbed a tissue from her desk and handed it to Nina. “Have you been thinking about Isaiah more often?”

Nina fiddled with her wedding ring. “Of course. He was my only brother.” Only eleventh months apart, Nina and Isaiah grew up inseparable.

“What about Damien?”

Nina flinched. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

Dr. Austin glanced at Nina over her thin glasses. “That’s fine, too. I won’t push you.”

“It’s also that...” Nina hesitated to broach the subject. “Some things have been happening that make me feel off.”

Dr. Austin leaned toward Nina and removed her glasses. “Like what?”

The weird things were probably just figments of her not-to-be-trusted imagination. “Actually, it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

Nina nodded. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, you’re checking in with me weekly, taking your medication, and monitoring yourself. So while I understand your concern, I want you to feel confident that I’m here to help make sure you stay healthy. We’ve also made a crisis plan in case things start to get scary or out of control. Part of your plan is regularly checking in with your dad. When was the last time you did that?”

“Earlier today. We talk daily, usually just quick check-ins. He’s captain of the Nina-surveillance team and my accountability partner. He’s doing a great job.”

“Then I don’t think you have anything to worry about right now. We have the crisis plan, but we’re not close to needing that.”

Nina drew a breath then blew it out. “You’re right. I’m so anxious to get my life back, and I don’t want anything to get in the way. But it’s probably all in my head...literally.”

Dr. Austin smiled, which made the wrinkles around her eyes more pronounced. “I’m glad to see that sense of humor of yours. What else do you have planned for today?”

“My nanny, Candace, emailed earlier and said she has a big test in one of her classes tomorrow, so she needs to get off early today. I’m going to pick up the girls from school.”

“I know going to the girls’ school can be stressful. Will you be okay?”

Nina wrote Dr. Austin a check for two hundred fifty dollars. Until she met her deductible, the weekly appointments were costly, but she’d purposefully sought someone with a PhD in counseling because she couldn’t afford anything less than a full recovery. “The trick is to get there after the rush. I’m working my way up to dropping them off in the morning, but I’m not quite ready to face the morning crew of parents after what happened.” The mere thought made Nina’s stomach turn. She rose from the chair and handed Dr. Austin the check.

“Same time next week?”

“Definitely.” Nina glanced at her Michael Kors watch: exactly 2:50. Her therapy appointments ran like clockwork.

A strong breeze blew past Nina as she stepped outside, whipping her shoulder-length curly black hair into her face. Hugging her arms to her chest, she hurried to her car, avoiding the leaves falling from the trees on University Avenue in downtown Palo Alto. As children, she and Isaiah used to love to wear boots this time of year and stomp down the street in their middle-class neighborhood, crunching the yellow and brown leaves beneath their feet. On Saturdays, as soon as they heard the metal scraping the sidewalk, they’d run outside to join their dad, who would sweep huge piles of leaves. Before he could get them into the trash can, Nina and Isaiah would come out of nowhere and slosh around in them. Their dad would gripe about it, but he had a grin plastered on his face the whole time.

Now, autumn meant that winter was just around the corner like a bothersome relative who always showed up on the doorstep for the holidays. And with the end of autumn came the day that had forever changed all of their lives.

As she hurried down the street lined with trendy Silicon Valley shops, her phone rang.

“Hey, girl. You busy?” Deja asked.

“Never too busy for my only friend. I just finished my appointment with my therapist.” Sure, her weekly appointment with a psychologist was regular mental health management. But she couldn’t rid herself of the shame that lingered like smoke in a cheap hotel room and was glad she had a friend who didn’t judge her for her illness.

“I hate to bug you, but do you think Candace can get Miles when she gets the girls and take him to your place? Work’s crazy right now, and I won’t be able to get him from school before six.”

“She actually has to study for a test, so I’m getting them. But of course, I can take Miles home with us. Just call Ms. Medina and give her your permission for me to take Miles with me. It will be no problem at all. I’ll get takeout, head home, and make sure they do their homework. And you’re never bugging me. You know that.”

“Thanks. You’re the best,” Deja said. “I’ll call now.”

Nina grabbed a coffee at the local coffee shop then headed back to her car. Once in her black BMW, she turned up the radio until hip-hop music blared through the speakers. She needed something to distract her on the thirty-minute drive to the kids’ school in San Jose. Hopefully, she wouldn’t run into anyone there who’d want to talk. After what had happened, the only people who went out of their way to talk to Nina were usually digging for gossip.

Once at the school, Nina headed through the parking lot to the playground. Crowds of the kids in afterschool care played on the jungle gym equipment or chased each other around the blacktop. The cold stung her face as she searched, but her girls weren’t among them. She checked by the picnic tables near the gym where the kids ate leftovers from lunch. But the tables were empty.

After jogging to the girls’ bathroom at the entrance to the gym, she flung the door open. “Bree! Laila!” Only her echo answered.

Her heart pounded. Maybe Miles knew where they were. Please let Miles know! She jogged to the basketball court where Miles usually shot hoops. There was a game of knockout going on but no sign of him either. She couldn’t figure out where they could be. Her heart thumped in her chest.

She dashed back to the fence. “Ms. Medina,” Nina called to the afterschool attendant in a bright-yellow windbreaker.

“Mrs. Taylor, hello,” Ms. Medina said. “Are you okay?”

“Where are my girls?” Nina panted.

Ms. Medina glanced sideways at Nina. “With your nanny. She picked them and Miles up in quite a hurry, saying something about a test.”

Nina smoothed back her hair, taking shallow breaths. Candace had said she had to study, so it didn’t make sense she’d pick them up. “Are you sure?”

Ms. Medina outstretched her wooden clipboard. The pages flipped in the wind, then her stubby finger pointed. “See? She signed them and Miles out a little after three. Miles’s mom called earlier and said he was going home with you. So I told her, and she took all three.”

And there it was: Candace’s signature checking them out for the day. “Okay.” Nina tried to block out Ms. Medina’s inquisitive stare. “Have a good afternoon.” Fingers trembling, she dug her phone out of her purse. Candace answered on the third ring. “Candace, you emailed and said you needed me to pick up the girls.”

“Yes, but you emailed me forty minutes ago and said you couldn’t do it.” Irritation laced Candace’s words.

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did.”

Nina placed her free hand on her hip. “This isn’t funny, Candace.”

“Who’s joking?” Candace asked without a trace of humor in her voice. “I have to study for my test.”

“Hold on a second.” Nina brought up her email on her phone and went to her sent messages. She gasped. A message to her nanny had been sent at about the time she’d been in the coffee shop: “Candace, I can’t pick up the girls. Please get them, and I’ll be home later. Thanks –Nina.”

“Nina, are you there?”

Nina’s heart pounded in her ears. “Yes.”

“Are you okay? You sound freaked out all of a sudden.”

“Yes. Fine. I’ll see you at home.” Nina struggled to catch her breath, worried about another one of the strange mix-ups that had been occurring over the past month or so. Though she didn’t know why they happened, she was certain she couldn’t afford a relapse.