“Maybe because this is the first year since the kidnapping that you have nothing to keep your mind busy.” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I’d like to try something a little different today. I’ve been working with a new technique called Soundwave Therapy. Basically, the tones are curated for a specific activity. In this case, this music, if you will, has been created solely for the purpose of easing one’s mind. It should help you drop into a hypnotic state more quickly than you normally would.”
“Is it safe?”
“It’s just music. I’ll have it so low you’ll hardly register it.”
She shrugged, but her clenched jaw told him she wasn’t buying it.
Eager to get going, he dimmed the lights and used his cellphone to turn on a low audio track.
She listened for a moment, sighed, and laid back on the couch. “I guess I expected it to sound more like actual music.”
“It’s more like white noise than music. Like a fan that lulls you to sleep, except this is only meant to calm your nerves so you can relax.” He smiled, reaching into his suit pocket.
Her eyes were already closing, the tension melting from her muscles with each pulse of the quiet, rhythmic beats. He carefully flipped the switch on the recording device in his pocket, turning it so the microphone pointed upward. He didn’t dare let Kline see that he was recording their sessions, though the order had come down from the top. Even if she got upset about it, there was nothing he could do.
Orders were orders.
He waited until her lips parted, and her breathing slowed and deepened. “You’re safe here, Ellie.” He kept his voice even and calm. “You’re in my office at Charleston PD, and no one can hurt you here. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, I want to start with this anxiety you’re carrying around over the anniversary of your kidnapping.”
She let out a soft sigh. “Okay.”
“Ellie, with each breath, you’re going to let go of a piece of the fear you’re clinging to.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. Listen to the sound of my voice. Breathe in strength, breathe out anxiety.” She inhaled and exhaled with his instructions, abdomen lifting with deep belly breaths like he’d taught her. “Breathe in hope, breathe out fear. You control your life, not some faceless monster in the shadows.”
This time when she exhaled, her breath was long but shaky.
Powell narrowed his eyes, the dim light casting long shadows over her face. “Ellie, where are you right now?”
“I’m safe.” Her voice was dreamy, but her jaw was still tight. Tense. Arms beside her body, her fingers drummed nervously on the couch cushion.
Powell pushed the volume up on his cellphone until the white noise track was almost as loud as his own voice. He waited a few moments to let her adjust. “We’re going to walk through your dream, but the most important thing to remember is that you’re here with me in this room, Ellie. You’re safe, and no one can hurt you here.”
“No one can hurt me here.” Her fingers touched the upholstery once more before relaxing so her hands lay flat, palms down.
“Good. Take me back to that moment when you feel the metal in your hand. Can you see what it is?”
She shook her head, brows furrowing deeply. “No.”
“Look down at your hand. What do you see?”
She inclined her head, going through the motions as if she were in the scene in real time.
Powell held his breath, his unblinking gaze on her.
She bit her lip and gave a small shake of her head. “I just see blood. It’s everywhere, and he’s on the floor, moaning in pain.”
“Come back to the weapon in your hand. Immerse yourself in the sensations you experienced from the moment you saw it. Was it cold when you first picked it up?”
Ellie reached her hand out in front of her, closing her fingers around thin air as if she were picking up the weapon. Her hand turned to the side, as if examining the weapon, though her eyes were still closed tight. Her voice was quiet when she answered. “Yes.”
“Hold on to that, feel the icy metal in your hand, notice how it gradually warms against your skin. Tell me about the shape.”
Her frown deepened and her eyelashes fluttered.
“Deep breath in and out, Ellie. You’re in a safe space.”
“I can’t do this.” Her voice rose higher, chest heaving with short, frightened gasps. Her fingers tapped the sofa again before clawing at the couch cushion in a panic.
“You can do this. There is no danger.”
Her eyes flew open, clear and bright, and disappointment streaked through him. She sat up, shaking her head. “I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry. I can feel the weapon in my hand, but when I try to focus on it, I drift out of the memory. And the man.” She cleared her throat. “I can see his legs and torso, but my brain is stuck on the blood. I can’t see his face.”
Intrigued, Powell said, “Can you see where you stabbed him?”
She started to shake her head and froze. “Actually, yes. I stabbed him above the heart. I remember the tip of the blade sinking into his flesh. I hit bone.” She scowled, her eyes focused somewhere in the past, though she was staring at Powell. “It wasn’t a blade, though. It was something…” She blew out a breath, frowning. “Why can’t I remember?” She stood up, eyes flashing with anger. “This is ridiculous. I’ve been stuck on this one memory, and I can’t move past it. Like I’m blocked or something.”
When she turned back to Powell, he let out the breath he’d been holding. “Perhaps we should try again another time.”
“I told you I couldn’t do this today.”
“It’s okay. You can’t force it. I have to ask if the tension is still there?”
She rolled her shoulders, lips parting in apparent surprise.
