But she wasn’t. Mia should have doubted herself before she doubted her aunt.
“I will ask her. I promise. But can we at least try? I really want to remember, not just about sleepwalking, but about my mother. Detective Samuels won’t reopen her case unless I have something new for him.” She looked around the room at the purple walls. How many times had she sat on this couch, pouring out her heart to Dr. Baquero? “I’m going to insist he look into what happened to my mother—just like Alma is insisting on an update for her family.”
“I have to say, I think I approve of this new, more assertive, you. This is your session, your time, so if you want to plunge right into a trance it’s your prerogative to try—but I’m not sure how well that will work. My advice is that you let yourself go wherever your mind leads, whether it’s sleepwalking or back to your childhood. Don’t try to force yourself in one direction or you may not get anywhere at all. Trust your mind to give you the information you really need.” Dr. Baquero reached for the remote and lowered the shade until only a strip of light entered the room.
Mia’s hands were already tingling. She looked at the coffee cup.
“When you’re ready, your eyes may want to close.” Dr. Baquero’s voice was far away.
And just like that, Mia’s arm floated, her eyelids slipped lower.
“See how good you are at this. I’m here if you need me. When you want to come out of your trance all you have to do is count…”
Mia’s chest rose and fell. The rhythm soothed her. Her arms and legs went limp. It was dark now—so very dark.
She shuddered.
You’re safe, now, Mia.
I’m with you.
Find the memories you need.
That’s Mommy’s voice!
She has me by the hand.
She’s dragging me.
Mommy, no! Please, I don’t want to go to the shed!
Mommy tugs harder. I try to pull my hand free, but I can’t and my feet slide slowly across the room. We’re almost to the front door, and I hear the sound of a car’s wheels grinding up the road growing louder and louder… and then softer, more distant.
Mommy sinks to her knees.
I fling myself against her, and she grips my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length. Her eyes are big, and she tells me, breathlessly, it was only a false alarm.
Thank goodness it wasn’t him, she says. He almost caught you in here, but he didn’t. We still have time. We can cuddle some more before I have to take you to the shed.
Outside, it’s raining hard.
I’m shivering.
I want to climb under the covers with Mommy and read Goodnight Moon and The Little Prince and Cinderella.
I ask her why I have to sleep in the shed, why I can’t stay with her.
Because Arnie’s coming, she says.
Arnie! You love him more than me.
No, Mia! Don’t say that. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, and she tells me she loves us both the same.
But I don’t believe her, and I say so.
Mommy gathers me up and carries me back to bed. She climbs in and pulls me close to her.
I smell flowers and rain.
I love you, Mommy—I whisper it in her ear.
Close your eyes, baby, and go to sleep. Sweet dreams, she says, as she kisses my cheek.
I close my eyes.
She hums, and I feel warm and safe, but then I jolt awake. Was that a car? Is it time to go to the shed?
I start to cry.
Shh. Don’t cry.
Now she’s holding me, rocking me against her body. I know you don’t understand, she says. But this isn’t just for me. It’s for both of us. It’s because I love you so much. I have to prepare Arnie before I tell him about you. If he finds out about you and he runs away, I don’t know what we’ll do.
Her face is wet, and it makes me want to comfort her. I reach up and pat her arm. Please don’t be sad, Mommy. I promise I’ll be a good girl. We don’t need Arnie. I can take care of us.
She laughs, but it’s not a happy laugh. She asks if I remember the woman who came to the apartment after Granddad died.
The pretty one? I ask.
Pretty enough, yes. Well, she’s from the state. And if she finds out we don’t have a place to live…
We have the cabin, I say.
We don’t have a place that’s legal, honey. And I’m trying real hard not to drink too much. I’m trying to get another job. You know I want to take care of you all by myself, but Arnie can help us, and I love him.
Tell me about Arnie, I say. I don’t want to hear the story again, but I know she likes to pretend everything will turn out happily ever after like in the storybooks.
I lean my head against her chest, and I feel her heart beating against my ear.
Arnie is tall and strong and he has black wavy hair, and a scar on his cheek he got fighting bad guys when he was in the Navy, she begins.
What’s a scar, I ask?
A mark on his cheek where he got cut. It might look scary to a little girl, but you don’t need to be afraid. Arnie is going to love you just as much as I do. And you’re going to love him. I promise.
I try to picture him in my mind, but I can’t. Is he coming tonight?
Yes.
Then why can’t I stay? Why can’t I meet him right now?
Because, I have to get him in a good mood first. I’ll pour his whiskey and make him real happy and then I’ll tell him all about you, Mia. This time, I really mean it.
She won’t tell him—I know she won’t.
Look at me, she says. Tonight’s the night! I’ll tell him all about
