Page 158 of Reckoning

I already prepped the room, put out two glasses of water, removed everything from sight, not that there was all that much in there. Beyond the chairs and the desk it’s pretty much empty. Like Koen has no need for such a space. I’ll admit that makes me smile. I couldn’t imagine how he’d sit behind this desk. How he’d look, tapping away at a computer, acting like the kind of man who wears suits.

I sit down, folding my arms, half tempted to set my own timer because I feel like Martin’s sessions seem to be going on forever.

He opens that same damned folder as last time, flicking through the papers before he shuts it up in a dramatic fashion.

“I thought we’d try something a little different today.” He says.

“Different how?”

He leans forward, unbuttoning the arm of his right sleeve and methodically he rolls it up, like it’s hot in here. He does the same to his other sleeve and then he sits back, fixing me with that gaze.

“We need to work on your memory, Sofia.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you want to get past all this, if you want to move on, then you have to face it.”

My nails dig into my palms. I can feel myself already reacting, already panicking. “I don’t want to go there.” I state. “If I open up those wounds, I’ll never come back.”

“Oh,” He says waving his hand at me. “Don’t be ridiculous, there are ways we can do this, ways we can peek into your trauma and uncover what we need to know.”

“And what exactly do we need to know?” I snap.

He narrows his eyes, takes a long sip of the glass of water beside him as though he’s trying to figure out the best plan of attack.

“Tell me, Sofia, are you still having nightmares?”

“Yes.”

“And what do they consist of?”

“Flashbacks.” I whisper. “I don’t see much, I don’t remember much, I just…”

His hand slams onto the table beside him and I swear I jump half a foot in the air. “If you focus, you will remember.”

I gulp, shaking my head. “I don’t, I’m not interested.” I say getting to my feet. “Maybe you should go.”

“Go?” He says smiling. “But we haven’t even gotten started yet.”

“I’m done.” I’m so fucking done. Maybe me telling the lawyers to shove it sparked some final defiance in me. Maybe I truly have grown up. I don’t care about the consequences anymore. I don’t give a shit what Hastings says or does. I know Koen will back me on this.

I’m done with therapy, I’m done with it all.

He tuts, getting to his feet and it feels like he’s facing me off now. “You know the thing I always found strange,” He murmurs. “Even after all this time, all these hours we’ve spent pretty much locked up, just the two of us, you still don’t recognise me, do you?”

I blink, staring back at him as it feels like something takes over my body.

Sheer, utter terror seems to trap me.

“Maybe it’s the glasses,” He says, pulling them off and tossing them. “Or the hair.” He pulls that off too, and his hair changes from that mousy brown, side parting to a dark brown mop that sticks to his forehead from the sweat, morphing his face into something else entirely.

“Who, who are you?” I stammer, taking a step back. If I can get to the door, if I can get out of this room then Koen’s men will step in, they’ll help.

I’m barely three metres away, almost touching distance. I just have to stay calm, to play this carefully.

He laughs, closing the distance just a little. “You really don’t remember?” He taunts. “But we had so much fun together. Well, I had fun. You, not so much.”

I scream, I turn and run, but he reaches out, grabbing me by my ponytail, yanking me back.

---