Chapter 191: Chapter 191 So You Remembered
Author
The next day, Nancy met with Freya—the therapist Elara had recommended.
Nancy’s shoulders dropped a notch when she saw Freya was a woman. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been.
"Please, sit." Freya gestured to the chair across from her desk. "I understand you lost your memory seven years ago. Any idea what caused it?"
Nancy had already seen a brain trauma specialist and a neurosurgeon. Both came to the same conclusion: it was probably psychological, not physical.
"That’s what they told me." Nancy settled into the chair. "That’s why I’m here. I heard you do hypnotherapy. I want to try it."
Freya nodded. "We can try. No promises, but we’ll keep the first session short. Better not to push too hard."
She paused, studying Nancy’s face. "Next time, it’d help if you brought a family member."
Nancy’s expression went flat. "I can’t. There’s no one."
Freya’s eyebrows lifted, but she let it go. She reached across the desk and flipped a small hourglass. "Alright. Let’s begin."
The lights dimmed. Freya’s voice dropped to a low murmur.
Nancy felt herself slip under.
--
Darkness.
She was running. A long hallway. Doors on both sides, blurry, endless.
Somewhere ahead, a baby was crying.
"Hello?" Her voice didn’t echo right.
She threw open a door. Empty. Just a crib, rocking like someone had pushed it.
Another door. Same thing.
The crying got fainter.
She ran faster. Her bare feet slapped against cold tile. Her chest ached.
The last door.
She pushed it open.
A tiny sock hung over the edge of a crib. Pink. Soft. Still.
She reached out—
The moment she touched it, everything dissolved.
--
Nancy jolted awake, gasping.
The lights were back on, too bright. Her clothes were soaked through. She stared at her empty hands.
Freya watched her carefully. "You alright?"
Nancy shook her head. "There was a baby. Crying. What does that mean?"
Freya’s brow furrowed. "Nancy... you were crying the whole time. Have you ever had a child?"
Nancy blinked. "What? No. I don’t even have a boyfriend. How could I—"
"Your memories start at twenty-one, right?" Freya leaned forward. "Before that...could there have been a pregnancy? A loss?"
Nancy opened her mouth. Closed it.
She couldn’t remember.
Freya’s voice softened, but she didn’t back down. “I’m just guessing. You’d need a hospital to confirm. But if you’ve had an abortion or a miscarriage, an exam would show it.”
“Okay.” Nancy barely got the word out. “I’ll go.”
Freya studied her. “You don’t have to go right now. Take a breath.”
But Nancy was already standing. She left in a daze, almost stepped into traffic at a red light. She knew she wasn’t thinking straight. She also knew she wouldn’t be able to think about anything else until she had answers.
She flagged a cab and went straight to the hospital. Found OB-GYN. Asked for an appointment.
When she was called in, she didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Is there a way to check if I’ve ever had a miscarriage or an abortion?”
The doctor pushed her glasses up. “You don’t know?”
Nancy’s jaw tightened. “Head injury. Lost my memory. Can you check?”
The doctor was about to write something down when she stopped, squinting at Nancy. “Actually—no need. You gave birth here seven years ago. A boy.”
She tilted her head. “You haven’t seen your son?”
The room tilted.
A son. Seven years.
Baby. The word cracked through her skull. Pain flared behind her eyes.
The doctor’s face shifted. “Are you okay?”
Nancy forced air in. “Who delivered him?”
The doctor frowned. “I did. Actually... you look familiar. You were pretty out of it after. Your parents and brother took you home right after.”
Parents. Nancy pulled out her phone. Found the tombstone photo. “Them?”
The doctor shook her head. “No. The mother had long, curly hair.”
Nancy’s hands shook as she pulled up another photo. Her adoptive parents. “Them?”
The doctor leaned in. “Yes. That’s them.”
Nancy stumbled out of the hospital, her mind blank.
Where was her baby? She’d never seen a child in that house. Where did he go? Did he just... disappear?
Her adoptive father was still in the hospital recovering. Her adoptive mother was there with him. Showing up now and demanding answers would only make things worse for him.
She stood on the curb, traffic rushing past, and had no idea where to go.
A black sedan pulled up beside her. The back window rolled down.
Dark eyes. Unreadable.
Her throat tightened. “Mr. Wolfe?”
“Get in.”
She hesitated.
“I’m headed your way. I’ll drop you.”
She didn’t have the energy for him. But she didn’t have the energy to argue either.
“Fine...I need to talk to you about something.”
The driver pulled into a quiet side street and stepped out.
Nancy turned to Yardley. “I think we should stop. The fake thing.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why? Someone else?”
She shook her head. “I’ll talk to my parents. Tell your father we broke up. Blame me. I don’t care.”
She said it again. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t say anything. Just watched her.
“Nancy.” His voice was low. “You still don’t get it?”
“Get what?”
“I’m not letting you go.”
The words hung in the air.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wolfe. We’re not...I can’t. Not right now. I have too much going on.”
She reached for the door handle. “You should find someone else. But it’s not me.”
She stepped out, murmured another apology, and walked away.
Yardley didn’t look angry. He pulled out his phone and called the hospital.
A moment later, the corner of his mouth lifted. “So you remembered.”
