“Not everything you dream is a memory,” he reminded her.
“That’s good.” She flicked her eyes in his direction and away once more.
Powell tilted his head and frowned. “What aren’t you telling me? Ellie, what do you see in your dreams?”
“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”
He blew out a soft breath through his nose. “I’ve recommended that you return to your full duties before, knowing what I do about you. If I were inclined to think you crazy, don’t you think I would have brought it up by now?”
She nodded but remained silent for long moments. Powell had almost given up on her elaborating when she cleared her throat. Her voice trembled when she finally found the words. “I see myself, slashing out with something sharp. There’s blood everywhere. It’s flung in sheets around me, hitting the cement walls and pooling around my feet. More blood than a human being could possibly have in their body. Then the room fills with it, and I try to keep my head above the surface, but it envelops me.”
Powell inwardly cringed at the image but didn’t dare interrupt.
She closed her eyes, nails digging into the couch cushion. “The blood is hot and thick, and even in the dark room, I can see that it’s bright red. Then a light flicks on, and the blood spills out of the room, sweeping me away with it.” Her breath caught, and she reached for one of the sealed bottles of water he kept next to the box of tissues on the end table. Drinking greedily, she downed half the bottle before taking a breath. As she gasped for air, her chest heaved as if she’d just surfaced from the river of blood. “The scene always shifts once I’m outside. The light disappears, and I’m in the dark again.”
“What happens next?”
“That changes from day to day, but only more snippets that make no sense.” She held her hands up helplessly. “Sometimes, the dream is pure blackness, but I can feel the dream happening.”
Powell scratched some notes on the paper before lifting his head to meet her waiting gaze. “Can you elaborate on what you mean by that?”
“Rather than sights, I’m blind and only pick up on the sensations of the dream.” Ellie’s green eyes had developed a haunted look, one that he’d seen in too many officers.
“You’re pushing too hard.”
“What I need to know is there, on the edge of my memory. Then it’s gone.”
He knew she wouldn’t stop trying to get the memory back, and it could only benefit him for her to recover it fully. Still, it would be best if he took her through it as slowly as possible. “We should try hypnosis again.”
Long moments stretched while she considered the suggestion. Just when he thought she’d tell him no, she nodded. “All right. But I don’t want to go too far under. Last time I felt like I was in a fog for a while after we were done.”
His pulse picked up at her assent. “How deep you go is entirely up to you. You’re in control.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
He flashed her a reassuring smile. “Lean back and relax. Let the memories come at will. Don’t force them.”
She nodded, relaxing back into the cushions, eyes closing.
Powell continued using his calm, level voice to help soothe her. “Take a deep breath, hold it…now let it out slowly. Start at the top of your head and feel the tension drain out of every inch of your body, from your forehead to your jaw. Now your neck and your shoulders. Your muscles relaxing.”
Her breathing slowed as she allowed him to guide her into a relaxed state, then through the chaos that made up what little memories she possessed. She clenched her fists and unclenched them.
When she was fully under, he asked, “What do you feel?”
“Cold metal in my hands. The burning of ropes digging into my wrists.” She gripped the cushion beneath her tightly. “Distant voices that seem like they’re coming from all around me.”
“What are they saying?”
She frowned. “I can’t tell. They’re so far away and disjointed. I feel hands on me, but their voices sound like they’re in another room. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Powell leaned forward in his chair, pen poised above the notepad, intent on Ellie. “How many voices do you hear?”
“Two. No. Three.”
“Male? Female?”
“Both. One woman and two men.”
He was thankful her eyes were closed, because he couldn’t keep the excitement off his face if he tried. “Tell me about them.”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t overthink it.” The words came out too fast, and he mentally reeled himself back in, waiting several beats before speaking again. “Just tell me the first words that come to your mind about the woman.”
Ellie licked her lips and squeezed her eyes tighter, obviously struggling to keep the memory from slipping away. “The woman is young and scared.” Ellie frowned. “Not scared. Excited. She’s breathless and speaking very fast.”
“What is she saying?” Powell jotted down notes so quickly the words ran together. He forced his hand to slow down. “Is she talking to one of the men or both?”
“One. Only one man speaks while she’s in the room. They’re talking so fast, I can’t understand what they’re saying.”
“None of the words are familiar?”
She shook her head. A second later, she froze.
“What is it, Ellie? Don’t overthink it.”
“I don’t think the other man understands either.”
Whatever they were saying, he’d lay money down that it was important. “When the men speak, what do you hear?”
She bit her lip, breathing loudly through her nose. Her knuckles turned white as she fought for the memory. “I can only focus on one word at a time. I feel like I’m wading through syrup.”
“Are you moving?”
“No. I’m asleep.”
“But you can hear them?”
“Yes.”
Powell set the notepad aside and leaned forward. “Ellie, I need you to tell me what they are saying. Block everything else out. Focus on their words.”
Ellie’s eyes flew open as she sat bolt upright. “No!” Her voice
