The movement made the room wobble. Patel noticed immediately and waited, giving the dizziness time to passinstead of filling the silence.
“That’s okay,” he said quietly. My fingers tightened in the blanket. “It’s pretty normal after something like this,” he continued. “Why don’t we start smaller. Can you tell me what you remember?”
My stomach clenched.
I didn’t want to remember. Remembering felt dangerous, like stepping onto thin ice. But he was watching me—not like Father watched, searching for faults, but like he was afraid of pushing too hard and breaking something.
“I was…” I swallowed. “I was in Father’s house.”
Patel nodded once, slow and encouraging. “Okay. Take your time.”
I stared at the far wall, focusing on a tiny crack near the corner where the paint didn’t quite meet right. It helped keep me talking.
“I’d gone there because he asked for me,” I said. My voice sounded far away, like it belonged to someone else.
I didn’t say anything about the cane.
Didn’t say anything about the pain, or the way my heart felt like it’d been torn out of my chest and trampled on.
“Someone came running in, but I don’t know who,” I continued, choosing my words carefully. “He sounded scared, though.”
Patel leaned back slightly in his chair, giving me more space. “What did he say?”
“I don’t remember exactly,” I admitted. “Just… that something was happening. That there were people coming.” My brow furrowed. “I think he said the police.”
Patel’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened just a little.
“And then?” he prompted gently.
“And then Father left,” I said, my stomach twisting at the memory. “And I was alone for a while.” I paused, my breathing shallow. “When I finally went outside, there were people everywhere. They were running. Crying. There were strangers. With guns.” I wrapped my arms around myself without realizing it. “They were shouting orders. Telling people to get on the ground. I didn’t—I don’t understand why.” My voice wavered despite my effort to keep it steady. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Patel didn’t correct me. He didn’t argue. He just listened.
“I saw Father again,” I said quietly. “He was being held down, and then they dragged him away.”
I stopped there.
I didn’t tell him exactly what Father said to me.
Didn’t tell him about the names, or the hatred, or the way I think I’d shattered into a hundred million pieces when Father looked at me like I was nothing but filth.
My chest felt too tight to go on.
Patel waited a few seconds, then spoke. “That’s a lot for anyone to witness,” he said. “Especially someone who wasn’t expecting it.”
I nodded faintly.
“I think…” I hesitated, then shook my head. “I’m sorry, it’s all so blurry. I remember Jace being there, and you too…” I trailed off, shame curling in my gut.
“That’s okay,” Patel assured me. “Gaps in memory are very common after shock.”
I sank back against the pillows, suddenly exhausted, the fog pulling heavier at my thoughts. My eyelids drooped, but I fought to keep them open.
“Elior,” Patel said softly, noticing. “If you get tired, that’s okay. We can stop.”
“Don’t go,” I said without thinking.
His deep brown eyes flicked back to mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”
