Page 25 of Her Final Hours
Answers were within reach. Noah stood outside the partially open office door, his knuckles gently rapping against the wood. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway of Elizabethtown Community Hospital, situated amidst the serene landscapes of upstate New York.
Inside, child psychologist Dr. Athena Blake was engaged in conversation with a doctor. Hearing the knock, the other doctor excused himself, leaving Athena to attend to Noah. She invited him in with a warm, beckoning gesture and motioned toward a seat.
“Please, take a seat.”
The office had a cozy yet professional atmosphere. Soft, muted colors adorned the walls, creating a calming ambiance. Bookshelves lined one side of the room, filled with academic texts and medical literature. At the center of the room was a neat and organized desk adorned with a few framed photos of afamily. A large window behind her allowed natural light to filter in.
Dr. Blake, a woman in her early fifties, possessed confidence and compassion. Her brown eyes sparkled, and her chestnut hair cascaded down to her shoulders in gentle waves. She wore sleek, rectangular glasses that accentuated her thoughtful gaze and made her look even more intelligent. That day she wore a professional yet comfortable ensemble, a light-blue blouse complemented by a gray blazer, giving her a poised but approachable appearance.
“I’m sorry you had to be pulled away from your vacation,” Noah began, his voice tinged with empathy. “Can’t be easy leaving that good weather behind.”
Athena shrugged nonchalantly. “Comes with my job,” she replied, her voice carrying a note of resilience. “There aren’t too many who work with law enforcement on cases like this, and I must say this is a unique one.”
“That’s for sure,” he replied.
Noah was eager to delve into the matter, wasting no time. “So what has she told you?” he inquired, leaning forward with anticipation.
Athena leaned back in her chair, observing him intently. Taking a sip of coffee, she looked at Noah, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Detective,” she addressed him with a touch of respect.
Noah was quick to interject, wanting a more informal connection. “Call me Noah,” he insisted, nodding towards her.
She assented with a nod of her own. “Noah, I’m not sure what you know about my work,” she responded calmly, in a measured tone. “But…”
“I heard you come highly recommended,” he said, interrupting her.
She continued, undeterred by not being able to finish. “Yes,well, you need to understand that these things take time,” she explained, her voice full of patience.
Noah blew out his cheeks, his impatience seeping through. “Time? How much? What are we discussing here, a few days, a week?”
She stared back, momentarily taken aback. “Throughout my career, I’ve worked on multiple abduction cases, some involved children taken and eventually found months later. In one case, it was almost eighteen years later,” she shared, her voice tinged with the weight of experience. “And in all cases, whether it was a month, a year or over a decade, the situation is more often the same. It takes time. The trauma that these individuals have experienced is unlike any other. Some open fast, while others take years. Usually, we have them on our homestead, where we can utilize equine-assisted therapy.”
Noah was quick to reply. “What therapy?”
She leaned forward. “Horses. They are very good at helping those who have been through trauma.”
Noah shook his head. “No offense, doctor, but we don’t have a year. This girl may be our only link to other missing girls.”
Athena took a deep breath, her voice steady and composed. “I understand, but if she was abducted, the chance of you getting anything clear from her will be slim to none. Many abduction victims have lost their trust,” she explained, her tone empathetic yet firm. “My job is to help them rebuild that trust, along with their self-esteem, and eventually guide them to face their fears and understand boundaries without overwhelming them with the ordeal they have been through.”
Noah sighed in frustration, running a hand across his pant leg. “I can appreciate that; I do. I admire your work, but we need her to confront the ordeal. Not sit around petting horses until she opens up.”
Athena scoffed, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “Is that what you think they do? Pet horses?”
He grumbled, his impatience growing more palpable. “Look, I don’t mean to sound condescending. You have a job to do just like we do. And as it stands, she may be a missing person. But since someone else’s blood was found on her and we’ve just pulled a man out of the Bouquet River, there is a solid chance she could be a killer. So forgive me if I want to skip the horse rides and get straight to the heart of this.”
Athena set her coffee cup down, her expression becoming serious. “So you think hooking her up to a lie detector machine will get to the heart of it? Or doubling down and interrogating her like you would a common suspect?”
Noah shrugged, frustration etched on his face. “It’s worked in the past.”
She cleared her throat and leaned forward, interlocking her fingers. “Well, maybe that’s because you weren’t dealing with someone exposed to a drug that causes amnesia, detective,” she said pointedly. “I’m sorry, but this is going to take time. The more you push, the higher the chances she’ll clam up. And then you’ll get nothing.” She paused. “I know you want answers. I do too. But when it comes to children, you can’t expect things to play out the same way they would with an adult, let alone someone who has been traumatized by who knows what.”
“So you’re saying there’s nothing you can do to help?” he asked, realizing the truth of her words.
Athena’s gaze softened, her empathy shining through. “I didn’t say that. My work is to help that girl, not to ensure your case is closed by next week. Now I will do my best, but it would be unprofessional to make promises I cannot deliver on. These situations vary according to the individual. We could see answers within days, or it could take months, even years.”
Noah sighed, the weight of his connection to the caseevident. “I’m sorry if I sound harsh. I don’t mean to be that way. One of the names etched into her skin was of a girl I once knew. A close childhood friend of mine. Payton Scott. So this is personal for me.”
Athena studied him before responding. “Your lieutenant informed me. May I ask what kind of therapy you’ve been through to address that?”
