32. Ava

AVA

S eamus’ text message seared into my brain, each word a hammer blow.

These aren’t antidepressants or antipsychotics… they’re memory suppressors.

A cold dread settled over me. Dr. Vale didn’t just know something about Liath’s abduction—he was the one behind it.

He had been drugging her. He abused her.

The memory suppressors were his way of controlling her, of silencing her when she got too close to the truth.

He was in the perfect position to know when her memories were coming back, when she was becoming a threat to his sick, twisted games.

He drugged her.

Kidnapped her.

Killed her.

The realization sent a wave of terror crashing through me, making my knees weak, my heart pounding like it was trying to escape .

I was next in his sick game.

Suddenly the room felt smaller, the walls closing in as the truth settled over me like a suffocating weight.

I could feel Dr. Vale’s eyes on me as I held my phone more tightly to keep from shaking.

I became hyper-aware of my every movement, sure that he could sense what I’d just learned by my breathing alone.

But what I knew wasn’t enough.

If I took the pills to the police and had them test the pills, all that proved was that Dr. Vale gave Liath something to repress her memories.

I had to get Dr. Vale to admit to abusing Liath.

I had to get him to admit he took Liath.

I cleared my throat. “Sorry, just one second.”

I pretended to turn the phone off, but instead I opened up a recording app and hit record.

I placed the phone back into my purse and hoped that it wouldn’t muffle the sound too much.

I couldn’t leave it out. If Dr. Vale spotted that my phone was recording, he’d never give away anything.

This was my one chance to get his confession.

I was worried that my breathing was far too fast as I looked up.

There he was, seated as before in his high-backed leather chair. His thin knee crossed over his leg. His long, pale fingers bridged beneath his close-shaven chin.

He assessed me with an attentive smile on his thin lips. The man who just wanted to help me. The man who believed in my recovery. The man who was doing all he could to make me better .

The man who had drugged me with memory suppressors.

The man who had abused Liath and taken her.

“If you insist on doing DMRT, we can,” Dr. Vale said in a voice so kind I nearly cried.

My mouth was suddenly dry. I licked my lips only to find my tongue parched.

I gulped down my water and refilled my glass. I knew I needed to keep my face natural. I could give no hint of what I’d just discovered.

I had to gently nudge Dr. Vale into a corner. To get him to agree with one thing, then another.

And hopefully, to admit to what he did to Liath.

I played with the rim of my glass, avoiding Dr. Vale’s eyes, and kept my voice soft and measured, pretending curiosity. “You know, maybe you’re right about DMRT. I mean, memory is so fragile, right? It can be so easily… manipulated.”

There was but a slight furrow to Dr. Vale’s eyebrows, his voice utterly composed. “Memory is a complex thing, yes. Trauma, especially, can cause it to fragment or distort.”

I took another sip of my water, pretending to be casual even as I found myself leaning forward. “Memory can even be… dangerous. Right? Especially when they remember things they shouldn’t.”

I studied his eyes, watching to see if there was a flicker of emotion.

Dr. Vale gave me nothing.

“I bet,” I continued, “that’s a tricky situation for you. If someone, let’s say, Liath, if she remembered something she shouldn’t. Must be tempting to help her forget it again. For her own good, of course.”

Dr. Vale paused, a faint smile twitching at his thin lips. “I wouldn’t say it’s tempting. Ethical boundaries are important, Ava. My role is to help my patients face their truth, not erase it.”

Liar!

I sat back in my chair, holding the glass in my lap, my fingers growing cold from the icy water as I gripped the glass and fought back the urge to throw it at his head. “Of course, that’s your professional obligation .”

There was the slightest pinch to his mouth. “It’s what I did for Liath. What I’m doing for you.”

“It’s just that I’m curious… about those little pills. The ones Liath took, the ones you prescribed. They weren’t antidepressants, were they?”

I set aside my glass and forced a smile, as if we were just having a casual conversation rather than me accusing him of drugging my friend.

Dr. Vale frowned. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that. Patient confidentiality, you understand.”

I tapped my chin as if something had just occurred to me. “I’ve seen pills like those before. They looked a lot like mine… except, funny thing, mine were for psychosis. But I’m not psychotic, am I?”

Dr. Vale’s shoulders tightened and his voice grew a hard edge. “I prescribed what I thought was best for both you and Liath. The goal was to stabilize you, to help you both cope with your overwhelming emotions and thoughts.”

I let out a light laugh, as though something absurd just occurred to me. But my insides were so tense I had to fight to keep my breathing even.

“What if…” I said, “hypothetically… those pills weren’t for stabilizing emotions at all? What if they were for something else? Like, say… suppressing memories? A quick little cocktail to keep our memories buried? That’s another way to keep us stable . Right?”

His eyes narrowed. “I think you’re letting your imagination get the best of you, Ava. You’ve always had a vivid one. It’s why you needed the medication in the first place, to keep grounded.”

I leaned in closer, my voice dropping, almost conspiratorial. “Oh, but you see, I’ve been doing some research. Turns out, it’s not all that hard to get these pills tested. I know Liath stopped taking her pills. She must have started to remember things… things about… you?”

A flicker of something crossed his face—anger, maybe—but Dr. Vale kept his tone steady. “I don’t appreciate what you’re implying, Ava. I’ve always acted in my patients’ best interests. Liath included.”

I faked a laugh. “I’m just asking questions, Doctor. Just like a good little journalism student. But here’s the thing… what if Liath told someone? What if she left a little… evidence of what she remembered?”

Dr. Vale, with his hands in the pockets of his tweed pants, tilted his head sympathetically to the side. But the light from the floor lamp next to his chair created horrific shadows across his face.

“Ava, I understand that losing Liath must be… mentally destabilizing. If you’re feeling uncertain about your treatment, we can discuss that. But these baseless accusations won’t help anyone.”

“You’re wrong about one thing,” I said between gritted teeth. “My accusations aren’t baseless. Thank you for this enlightening conversation.”

I stood up, but my handbag fumbled from my grasp and fell to the floor.

My phone fell out of my bag, its screen facing up. With my recording still going. And Dr. Vale’s gaze now fixed on it.

Shit.

Dr. Vale leaped to his feet, his eyes blazing on me. “You’re recording me?”

I glanced past him to the door. To my escape.

I cursed that it was behind Dr. Vale. I would have to pass right by him to get away.

I snatched up my phone and my bag and crossed toward the door with quick, determined steps, but Dr. Vale stood in my way.

“Get out of my way.”

I tried to slip past him, but Dr. Vale sidestepped, blocking my path.

“Oh, Ava,” he said, clicking his tongue. “Why wouldn’t you just let me help you?”

The sympathetic smile on Dr. Vale’s face turned sinister.

“You bastard,” I hissed, unable to hold it back. “You drugged Liath. You drugged me .”

With a genuinely regretful shrug of his shoulders, he said in a voice I hardly recognized, “If only you’d stopped digging.”

I shoved at Dr. Vale and ran .

He caught my wrist, which spun me around back into his arms. I screamed, thrashing against his arms, but he was deceptively strong.

Stronger than I imagined he would be.

“Calm down, Ava,” he breathed against my ear. “Or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Fuck you!” I elbowed his ribs as hard as I could.

With a pained grunt, he released me, clutching at his side.

I darted toward the door, blood rushing in my ears.

I turned the knob only to find it locked. No! I tried again, jangling and kicking at the door.

But it wouldn’t budge.

I smelled something familiarly pungent. I glanced over my shoulder, terrified of what I would find.

Dr. Vale stood by his desk, carefully pouring a liquid from a glass bottle onto a red rag. He wrapped his cashmere scarf over his mouth and nose.

“Poor Ava,” he said, looking across the office at me. “I’m afraid you’re having a psychotic break.”

The door was locked. The windows opened out to a second-story drop.

Fuck. I was trapped.

I fumbled with my phone, with the recording app. If I was going to die, at least I could send proof of Dr. Vale’s treachery to Scáth.

“Come here, my dear,” Dr. Vale said as he strode toward me, his voice muffled by his scarf. “This will calm you down.”

I pressed up against the door as I hit Send, praying that he’d find a way to make Dr. Vale pay .

“Get away from me.”

I watched him with the eyes of a cornered animal. My breathing was ragged and harsh in my own ears.

I glanced around for a weapon. But there was nothing in reach. All of Dr. Vale’s antique medical instruments were on the bookshelf literally on the other side of the room.

Maybe if I feigned and got past him, I could grab the bone saw.

I dropped my bag—everything in there was useless at this moment—and stayed on my toes. Waiting for my moment.

Waiting for him to get close enough.

Now!

I feigned left and pushed off to the right, trying to run past him.

He caught me by the midsection and shoved me back against the door.

I screamed for help, but my cry was cut off by the soaked rag.

Dr. Vale pressed it against my mouth, my lip cutting painfully on my teeth as I tried to push his hand away.

I tried to scream. I tried to fight.

But Dr. Vale was stronger than he looked. I’d underestimated him.

I tried not to breathe.

But I could only hold my breath for so long.

I was forced to suck in the fumes from the rag, the familiar sharp and slightly sweet scent burning my lungs.

The office tilted on its axis. My head hummed and a low vibration ran across my skin, my vision closing as my knees buckled .

“I’m sorry, Ava,” he said, his hand pressing even firmer over my lower face. “You gave me no choice.”

I could do nothing as my vision closed in on Dr. Vale’s determined narrowed eyes, as I fell back into a deep dark hole. Is this the last thing Liath saw, too?

Before everything went black, a sadness came over me. I wouldn’t get to see Scáth one last time.

I should have just left with him. I should have run away with him somewhere we could be safe.

But it was too late now.