Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(68)

Spencer’s grip tightens around my hand. “You don’t have to.”

No, I don’t, but I am tired of this. I want to know who killed my brother. I want to be able to live my damn life. If I can remember this, maybe all the other things could finally be explained.

“I want to do this,” I tell him. I turn to Dr. Girardo. “I need answers, and I am tired of these small moments that I can’t control.”

“We may not be able to control this, Brie.”

“No, but it’s worth trying.”

Dr. Girardo motions me over to the couch. “Spencer, I’m going to ask you to wait over there. It’s important that you not speak unless I motion you over. I want to warn you both that this can go badly. You may panic, get a headache, or see a false memory that may feel very real. Dizziness and drowsiness are also possible. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

“What do you mean false memories?”

That’s what I really don’t want to have happen.

“It’s possible that your mind will meld memories and create false ones. So, anything you say under this may not be accurate. We are working to try to get your mind to work with you to lift that fog you describe, and sometimes things can get spliced together.”

I sigh. I don’t want fake memories. I want the ones that I had. I want the truth. “How will we know?”

His eyes are full of compassion. “We won’t until we have more of your memory recovered.”

Spencer stands, moving toward me. “And this isn’t going to affect what we’ve all been protecting her for?”

“You mean the case?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Dr. Girardo gives me a soft smile. “These are all coming from you. We aren’t going to guide you, so this is not going to hurt that. At least that’s what I would say if I were called to testify. What we’re doing is allowing the brain to move without fear.”

As long as there isn’t a risk to the case, then I don’t see the harm. “Okay. I think we should do it. I want to try.”

Spencer takes my hands in his and then kisses my knuckles. “I’ll be over there. I won’t leave.”

“I know.” And I do. He won’t abandon me. He never has.

He leans in and kisses my forehead before walking away.

“Get comfortable. You can lie down if you’d like.”

I do that because it’s the most comfortable position for me, and we begin. It doesn’t take me too long to settle into the slow cadence of breathing he taught me to use when meditating. Once I’m nice and relaxed, he begins to speak. He verbally walks me through a series of mental images that slowly become my whole focus, until eventually I’m in the passenger seat of a car while the sun lights the horizon with a new day.

“Do you see that?” Dr. Girardo’s voice shifts.

I look around. “See what?”

“The parking lot. Do you see where you’re located?” I look around and see Isaac. We’re laughing as we exit the car.

“He’s here,” I tell him.

“Where is here?”

I’m standing on the outside of the memory looking at it from the outside. I see my smile, bright and carefree, as my brother speaks. I exit from the car, looking up at the sign on the building. “Rosie’s.”

“And what are you doing there?”

“We wanted coffee. I wanted to talk to him about something important.”

“Good. Who else is there?”

“Just Isaac. It’s early, and no one is here.”

Dr. Girardo speaks again. “What happens now?”

“We . . . we stop. He’s at the door, and I just exited, but there’s someone calling my name.”

“Focus on his face, Brielle. Focus on pushing the fog away,” Dr. Girardo encourages. “You are safe. Tell me what you see.”

“Isaac is telling me to stay there,” I tell him. I start to move forward, but there’s nothing again. “I can’t see . . .”

My breathing starts to accelerate, and sweat beads across my hairline. I’m scared. I know this is bad and I can’t see his face. He’s there and he’s going to kill us.

“You can do it, Brie, I’m here.” Spencer’s voice is low at my ear. “No one can hurt you. No one will get close. I will keep you safe.”

Immediately, I relax a little and the fog lifts. Only I’m not in the parking lot with Isaac.

“I can . . . the fog is gone.”

“What do you see?” Spencer asks.

“You.”

“Where are we?”

I smile, looking at the scene before me. He and I are in my apartment, just like last night. His arms are around me and he’s holding me to him. Spencer’s hair is a little shorter than it is now. “We’re smiling.”

Dr. Girardo’s voice intrudes. “Are you happy?”

“I am. I feel this flutter in my chest. Spencer is smiling at me as he takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom.” It’s like last night, but . . . “We aren’t in a tux or dress this time.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Jeans. We have jeans on.” That’s strange, why would we be going into my bedroom?