28

No answer.

I've been ringing the doorbell of Henrik's front door for the last five minutes. He's been ignoring my calls all week. Something is obviously wrong.

It feels like I spend most of my time fighting thingsat the moment. I fight the feeling that I'm losing my mind. I fight to maintain a front of normalcy as everything seems to crash down around me.

I fight the feeling I have when I look at Ava. The hot, primal hunger. I can still smell her scent of lavenderhanging in the air around me, and to befrank—it's driving me fucking crazy. I'm supposed to be her therapist and her boss's advisor on their case. But I'm haunted by these dreams of fucking her in the most vicious, animalistic ways.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of movement in thehugesash windows to the side of the door. Henrik's wide-eyed face disappears behind the curtain as soon as I turn.

I exhale, banging on the door again. "Henrik! I know you're in there. Please, let'sjusttalk."

The door creaks and slowly pulls open a fraction.

Henrik appears.Relief fills me; he lookslike he always does,dressed in a beigecardigan.But his face is pallid, almost gray.

His voice has a tremor when he speaks. "Jackson. You can't be here."

"What's going on? I've been calling you for days and no answer. I was worried you were hurt."

His eyes drop to the ground. "I almost was."

I frown in confusion. "Let me in. Let's talk. What's happened?"

He shakes his head. "You have to go."

There's a dead weight in my stomach. A creeping realization is settling over my skin. "Why, Henrik?"

My voice hitches as I force myself to ask the question. I don't want to know the answer.

His expression softensa fraction, and he reluctantly opens the door, beckoning me in. He leads me into the kitchen, standing across the room from me with his hands folded across his chest.

"What happened when I was last here?" I ask. "I came to ask you for help. And then—"

Memories flood my brain. A blur of emotions and sensations, but no images.

I sigh. "Then it all goes dark."

Henrik anxiously nudges his glasses. "After that… You left."

"That's all?"

He frowns, as if it's painful to say. Like he's holding back his words to stop them hurting me.

"You were angry with me. You were violent.You threatened me. Don't you remember?"

A wave of nausea crashes through me. Violent? How could I hurt Henrik, of all people?

I sink down onto the kitchen stool next to me. "I truly don't remember any of it. You know how much you mean to me. As a mentor, a friend, a savior. I'm so sorry—"

He raises a hand. "Don't apologize to me, please. Just leave. Unless you're willing to accept my help."

I glance up at him. Maybe he can see the fear in myeyes,because he sighs, circling the kitchen island to finally stand next to me.

"I want to help you," he murmurs. "You're like a son to me. Eversince that day when I caught you sneaking into my lectures. I nearly reported you to the college, but on a whim,I decided to ask you why you were there. We talked for an hour, remember? All about psychiatry, psychology, philosophy."

Tears are glistening behind his wire-rim glasses.

"You were still so young, but I saw so much burning bright potential in you, and I was right."

My throat feels tight. "I know, Henrik. I owe it all to you. You talked the college into giving me a scholarship. I was full of demons. So angry at what I'd been through."

His expression hardens. "But you need more help than I can give. If you let me, I'll drive you to a psychiatric facilityandwe can check you in together. I'll be with you every step of the way, but that's all I can offer."

Waves of pain roll through my mind. I can't. Not again. Not after Dr Blackwood.

I force a smile, though my insides feel cold. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"I can't force you to go. Not unless I know you're a threat to yourself or others."

I know I'm a hypocrite. I know, as someone who makes a living helping other people, I should have rid myself of all these demons already. But I can't go back to what I escaped from.

"I can't go, Henrik."

He sighs."Then, like any therapist,all I can do isadvise you.Go back to your past. Find the route of this darkness.Find a way to control it.Before it controls you, for good."

I slowly nod, rising to my feet and heading toward the door. I feel like something inside me has cracked open. This is more serious than I ever thought.

Henrik's voice calls after me.

"You said a name."

I turn. "What?"

"A name. After you suddenly… changed. I asked if the woman you were speaking of was triggering these phases."

I feel thecrash of heatin my veins before heevenfinishes his sentence.

"You said to never again speak of Ava Cain."

***

Back at my house, I flip open my laptop.

Night falls as I start searching, but it's a while before I realize I'm sitting in the dark. Articles and addresses fill the screen in front of me.

All dead ends.

I flick on a dim lamp before I click shut the twenty different tabs in frustration.

Go back to the past.

At least I'm listening to part of Henrik's advice. If the route of this is in my past, maybe Idoneed to remember what I've buried.

The place I swore I'd never return to. The place I told myself I'd healed from long ago.The place that's shrouded in fog.

Like sunshine, Ava once called me. I had to become like sunshine to cover up the rotted, filthy darknessthat mychildhood filled me with.

I type four words into the search bar.

Private investigators for hire

It's time to find my parents.