Her First Mistake Carey Baldwin (ereader with dictionary TXT) 📖

And I remember everything—except most of what happened the year my mother went missing.” And while I was sleepwalking. Mia tugged at a loose thread on her shirt. “I guess that’s quite the blank spot.”

“You said ‘I had nothing to do with Celeste’s disappearance—not in the way you mean’. So, in what way then?”

“If I hadn’t taken Celeste’s keys, she wouldn’t have been in that alley for someone to grab her—or whatever happened.”

“Celeste made her own decision to walk home. She had plenty of options. You told me one of the other teachers offered her a ride. Even if she didn’t want to impose, she could’ve called Uber, Lyft or a cab. You didn’t kidnap her. You didn’t mug her, or hurt her in anyway. You’re not responsible for what happened that night.”

“I still feel terrible.”

“Feelings aren’t always rational, but they can be managed. Keep chipping away at those self-destructive thoughts, replace them with reason, and eventually your emotions will come into line. And, Mia, I will give you one piece of advice—let the police handle this situation with the parent from your work. Tell Detective Samuels about this Hudson fellow following you. He might be dangerous.”

“Hudson will just deny it. And if Samuels has seen the tapes from the Piano Man and those tapes show me taking Celeste’s keys…”

“Regardless of what went on with the keys, regardless of what Samuels does or doesn’t know about them, you need to tell him about this Hudson character.”

“You may be right about Paul. In a way, he threatened me—Samuels should hear about that.”

“Good, so you’ll fill Samuels in on Hudson. And, if you’re so worried about the keys, why not just admit what you did? The anxiety over being found out is likely worse than suffering the consequences if the truth does come out.”

Mia shook her head. “I disagree. The consequences are worse. You know me better than anyone, maybe even better than I know myself, and you just asked if I had something to do with Celeste’s disappearance. If you questioned whether I might be capable of hurting her, think of the police. I don’t want to send them down the wrong path. I don’t want them wasting time investigating me when they could be hunting the real culprit.”

“So then, you’re being noble. You’re not worried about what your new friends, the Coopers, will think of you?”

She ducked her chin. “You’re right. I don’t want Celeste’s family to hate me—I can hardly stand to think of it, but it’s also because of what I said about leading the police in the wrong direction.”

“If it’s going to come out eventually, don’t you think it’s better for you to be the one to bring it to light?”

“If I don’t say anything, there’s no reason it would be found out. Unless it’s on CCTV, of course.”

“All right. I’m done pressing. But think about getting this key caper off your chest and out into the open. I’m concerned about the sheer number of stressors you’re juggling. I’d hate to see all the progress you’ve made over the past few years unravel. Are you sleeping well?”

Not at all—but she didn’t dare come clean about the sleepwalking and the pills. “I’m okay. And in some ways I feel stronger than I did the last time we talked. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I called. You remember, a while back, we talked about hypnosis.”

“To help you recover childhood memories surrounding the trauma of losing your mother. You opted out—said you didn’t see what was to gain by reliving a horrible event.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I want you to put me under. When I asked Detective Samuels about reopening my mother’s case, he told me that was a no-go—unless I remember something significant. Something that could generate a lead.”

“This might not be a good time, Mia. With all the problems you’re facing, I worry hypnotic regression could cause you to lose ground—after you’ve made such great progress—after all the work you put in to get where you are today. I’d suggest waiting a month or two and then seeing how you feel.”

“You were in favor of hypnosis before.”

“Circumstances were different.”

She set her jaw. “No one ever really looked for my mother, not the way they’re looking for Celeste. Samuels says I’m the only one who might know something that would justify reopening her case. I wasn’t ready before, but I’m ready now. I have a reason to relive the pain. Please, Dr. Baquero, I’m the only one who might know something of use to the police, and you’re the only one who can help me remember.”

Twenty-Four

Dr. Baquero reached for a remote, and the shades on the window behind her desk whirred down. A thin strip of light crept in beneath the shade, gently mediating the near blackness in the office. “All right then, I’ll help with your recall. But only you decide.”

Blood whooshed in Mia’s ears. Apprehension seeped through the cracks in her resolve like water through a neglected roof. “What will I decide?”

“Everything. Are you comfortable?” Dr. Baquero lowered her voice, barely speaking above a whisper.

“Yes.” Mia settled back against the couch, clutching the cushions. “But I’m confused. I don’t know what to decide upon.”

“Once we begin, you will know all you need. Paths will present themselves, and you will decide which ones to take, or whether to simply stand still.”

“Okay. I understand.” Though she really didn’t. But she suspected, from the melodic tone, the change in rhythm of Dr. Baquero’s voice, the hypnotherapy had already begun.

She needed to remember what happened with her mother.

She had to do this—leaky confidence or no. “Did we start already? Do I just close my eyes and give complete control to you?” As much as she trusted her therapist that sounded scary as hell when she said it aloud.

“See how perceptive you are, Mia. You’re exactly right—we’ve already begun, but I won’t ask you to give me the power. You’ll be the one in control. I’m here if you