“Two! One!” Quinn says from somewhere outside where I am. I’m scrambling in the snow, falling, crying, trying to leave the blood behind. “One!” Her voice is urgent, a compressed shout. “You will leave the trance now, Olivia. You’re safe.”
As if someone has just cut the string, my right hand falls down by my side. Slowly I become aware of where I am. Of when I am. I’m panting, breathing as hard as if I really had been running through the woods instead of just remembering.
I open my eyes and straighten up. Try to slow my breathing.
“What did you see?” Quinn leans forward.
“I saw…” I have to swallow before I can continue. “Two people in the woods. Standing close together. My mom and someone else. She kept saying no, but the other person pulled her close and stabbed her.” I raise my hand to my face, half expecting to still feel the blood freckling my cheeks. “And then I ran.” The terror races through me again.
Putting my hands over my face, I try to put in order the memories I’ve had since I’ve been back. My mom reading to me. The fresh snow. My mom being stabbed as the churned snow turned red. The bloody knife on the floor mat.
“Did you recognize the other person? Did you see their face?”
Opening my eyes, I shake my head. Quinn’s eyes are the color of gas flames. I’m shivering, a tremble so fine it’s like I’m vibrating. “Only their legs. I guess because I was little. I couldn’t see either of their faces. And I didn’t understand what was going on until it was too late. I don’t think I really understood until now.”
Quinn blows air through pursed lips. “No three-year-old should ever have to understand that.” She thinks for a minute. “Even if you didn’t see the other person’s face, did you hear them speak?”
“No. Like I knew they had been yelling at each other, but in that little bit of memory, the only voice I heard was my mom’s. And she just kept saying no.” I grab Quinn’s hand. Her thin fingers are ice-cold. “Put me back under. If I can go back, I might see the killer’s face. I might know who did it.”
Sucking in a breath, she pulls her hand back. “I’m so sorry, Olivia, but I have another client coming in ten minutes. Even if I didn’t, it’s not like there’s a dial I can set to take you back to an exact time. Remember, there’s no guarantee you even retained the memory of the killer’s face or voice. I could take you back over and over, and it might not do anything but cause you a lot of pain.”
“But I could still have the memories,” I insist, my jaw tight.
“Let me ask you something,” Quinn says slowly. “Who else knows?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who else knows what you’re trying to find out?”
“Just one person. But he won’t say anything. And I guess now you know. Why?”
Her answer is blunt. “Because if whoever did it is still around, they’re not going to like you trying to find answers.”
“But I’m not the only one who’s trying to figure out what happened. At least not since my dad’s jawbone was found. The police are reopening the case.”
“That’s from the outside looking in. You were right there. You were an eyewitness. Even if you didn’t retain the memories, if whoever did this finds out about you, they’re going to want to stop you. You could be in danger.”
“I’m being careful. I have a different name now, first and last, and my hair’s a different color. But my parents deserve justice. I deserve justice.” I square my jaw. “So when can I come back?”
With a sigh, Quinn picks up her appointment calendar. “My next opening’s Monday at eleven.”
I swear under my breath. “I’m scheduled to work that day.”
We go back and forth until we find a time that works for both of us, but it’s more than a week away.
“I don’t want to wait that long.”
“You might not have to.” Quinn looks at me appraisingly.
“What do you mean?”
“After a session, many people have revelations, both in dreams and while awake. Some obvious and some not so obvious. Write them down. Keep track of them.” She leans closer. “Trust your gut.”