Page 100 of Doubts & Fears

She nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Could you tell me just one thing about Mischa and her life?”

It took her forever to speak, but she hadn’t told me no, so I waited it out. In the end, it was the best thing I could have done. Because not only did she share about Mischa, but she gave me a glimpse into her childhood with her parents. The other significant thing was any previous time she mentioned Mischa, she did so in third person, but this time, she used the wordIinstead ofshe.

“Apparently, when I was two years old, my father and I encountered a rabid dog in the village while walking. He immediately put me on his shoulders to get me as far away from the animal as possible.”

Her arms wrapped around her knees, and she drew within. Sadness radiated from her in waves, but she laid her head down and spoke again.

“After several minutes of shouting, the dog took off, and my father went to put me down on the ground. I’ve been told that I was petrified to be put down. Somewhere along the way home that day, my father realized I wasn’t afraid of heights and had amazing balance. He started throwing me onto his shoulders every time we went somewhere. He then progressed to making me stand on them while he walked.”

A wry smile filled her face as she reconnected with the camera and told the next part of her story.

“It was my job to anticipate his every move and counter my balance so I didn’t fall. That progressed into being thrown into the air like a rag doll and balancing on the palm of his hand. My father taught me hand-to-hand dance, aerial straps, gymnastics, and the trapeze. Pasha was my first dance partner. I was four, and he was nine. Those babies I was mentioning the other night were supposed to be his, although he never agreed to it.”

When she smiled, her entire face lit up, and I was struck by the pureness of her. She waited a few minutes before speaking again, and I was surprised by what she said.

“I know you asked me this before, and now is as good a time to answer it as any, because something tells me it’s important for everyone to know. Could I ask you a favor, though?”

“Of course.”

She turned her soft gaze to the camera, and I was once again struck by how natural she was. Her focus was dead center, like she knew exactly where to look. It was both haunting and surreal. It was as if she was in the same room with me.

“My favor is that I’m hoping you wouldn’t mind sharing the next part with Alek, Nik, and Ivan. It’ll be easier if I only say it once.”

My interest was piqued. She was already giving me permission to share. Maybe she wouldn’t be that difficult to work with after all.

“You asked how I know a thing or two about the lifestyle, and while I had a lie prepared that I know every single one of you would have bought, hook, line, and sinker, I’ll tell you the truth instead.” She gave me a half grin when I chuckled.

“I appreciate that, Ms. Taylor. But you should know, I’m pretty good at telling the truth from a lie.”

“Is that a challenge? I guess I could tell you both and let you determine which is the truth from the lie.”

“Nope, you made a pact, remember? Lay it on me.”

“My curiosity stemmed from the fact my parents practiced it. My father used to tease my mother about using her safeword or disciplining her. It was always in fun. They had a locked room that I wasn’t ever allowed in, and they would often disappear in there.”

She paused with a smirk. I narrowed my eyes, studying her. She laughed at my facial expression.

“See, and right about now, you are wondering if I’m going with the lie. I promise you I’m not. I have a very distinct memory of a time when my father disciplined my mother when I was seven years old. Would you like to hear it?”

Her eyes once more connected with mine, and it was no wonder Alek was a mess. Her shimmering pools of blue and gray held a kaleidoscope of feelings, unfiltered and unrestrained. It was as if the floodgates of her soul were on full display, and in that moment, I understood his attraction to her raw beauty.

“It must be a powerful memory if you can recall it. Tell me, what clarity level would you categorize this memory? Scale of one to ten, ten being crystal clear.”

“We’ll go with ten, Dr. Marcel. So clear that it has stuck with me, even after other aspects of them have faded. I used to sneak into my parents’ room at night, and I’d wait for them to come out of their playroom.”

Her facial expressions were a cross between two emotions. Complete contentment and a profound sense of loss as the memories played out behind her eyes. As she closed them, everything in me wanted to demand she open them. There was something in her gaze. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I was transfixed.

“Ms. Taylor, I’d like to ask you to look at me as you speak, please,” I said, without giving it a second thought. She nodded, crossed her legs, and gathered her hair to one side.

“One day, my mama lost me in the village, and my papa was very upset about it. Mama was supposed to be watching me, but it really wasn’t her fault, it wasmine. I wandered off.” She steeled herself like she was anticipating an argument. When she didn’t get one, she continued. “Anyway, that part doesn’t matter. That night, I snuck into their room and climbed into their bed. It was so hard to stay awake. They were in there forever, it seemed. I dozed off.”

Her voice broke, and I wondered what she was thinking. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. “Dr. Marcel, when I tell you I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life, I mean it. The way my papa lovingly laid my mama on the bed. The way he spoke to her. Normally, they would both walk in from that room, but that night was so different.”

“Go on,” I breathed low, trying to encourage her.

“Usually, they would let me lie in the middle between them. Except that time, mama got to be in the middle. Papa held her, whispering to her, and my mama held me tightly in her arms. But…I can’t remember what they looked like.” She turned her eyes to me as tears coursed down her cheeks.

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