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“Do I have multiple personalities? Is that what you’re saying? Am I insane?”

She shakes her head. “No, you’re mistaken. You experienced dissociation, which is a perfectly normal reaction given the circumstances you endured for months. Your body and mind went through trauma, and your response was acute. You also have PTSD, which explains your physical response to the memories of your hallucinations. You’re not insane.”

I’m still shaking. “The way you’re saying it makes sense.” And explains the vivid dreams and episodes. The guilt, however, is not freeing, and the sense of it is overwhelming. I did something awful…and my mind is punishing me since I never truly got punished for it. I dare to look at her. “So why is the Archer punishing me, then?”

Her brow furrows. “I don’t know what he represents. We have to dig further inside your head.”

I’m a murderer. Deep in my core, that’s what I am. I’m not entirely sure what I said out loud or what went through my mind while under hypnosis, but since she hasn’t called the police about a hit-and-run, I’m guessing I’m clear.

I’m a good liar, even in my dreams.

I blink up at her, trying to manage my trauma response. My body is shaking as if it just happened. I was so close…SO close to learning more about him. So close to experiencing him the way my body’s been craving for months.

I want to tell her he called me, but I have no phone records to prove it. At some point when I checked my phone, the messages and call history had vanished. It’s as if he hacked my phone. Any proof of his existence just disappears, and it’s as if I can only access him in my dreams.

“Bring me back there. I want to go back.”

She snaps her notebook shut. The diary of my ramblings. The proof she could commit me at any moment should she deem me unfit for society. “I’m really pleased with your progress. You’ve made a breakthrough, but that’s enough for today. Especially with what happened yesterday. I am to send you home with the police, who will watch over you for a few days. You will be safe tonight.”

Tears stream down my face as emptiness tears into my soul. “I’m not done. I want to see what happens next.” I want to see the Archer again.

“Layla,” Regina warns and places her hand on mine. “You were under hypnosis for two hours. Most of it you spent moaning and crying. You need rest.”

I sigh and fall back on the couch. “Two hours?” I rasp. That explains why my mind and body are utterly exhausted, like I’ve just run a marathon.

“Time has a way of morphing, just as you experienced when you were in isolation.”

Regina is always so logical. Even when I think I’m insane. “What else did I say?”

She sighs and pushes up her glasses. “You were in distress for most of it. I just heard the name Natalie, and near the end you spoke about the Archer.”

My ears perk up. “What did I say about the Archer?”

Regina leans back in her chair and watches me curiously. “Just that he fixed you. Helped heal your arm. He made you feel good.”

I rub my hand over my shoulder, the phantom pain returning. The terror I experienced when my fingers grazed someone’s flesh. Something still isn’t adding up.

She sighs again. “There was no one down there with you, Layla. Not even Toby himself. You were alone. You most likely fixed your dislocated shoulder yourself.”

My thoughts freeze. “Is that possible?”

She blinks at me. “When you’re in pain and desperate, anything is possible, especially when you’re alone.”

I remember his hands as he popped my shoulder back into place. How he felt curled up against me as my body recovered in the bunker when I awoke. “It felt so real,” I breathe.

“I know it was hard to relive that, but our brains are programmed to protect us. You did what you needed to do to survive. It made you stronger.”

I feel broken…not stronger.

I pull my phone from my pocket and glance down at it, scrolling through the empty messages that should be there. Where did they go? Did I delete them?

“Layla?”

My eyes drift up to her. “Yeah?”

“Are you ready to tell me how you got those bruises?”

I chew on my bottom lip, and my heart flutters. “Gabe gave them to me.” Lying comes so easy. “We’ve been…seeing each other recently, and I like it kind of rough.”