“It sounds like you’ve spent your adult life running away from it,” Dr. Haven said. “Did you never think about exploring what happened, finding out what led to this woman’s death?”

“No,” I admitted. “I only ever wanted to bury that night.” The image of Mirelle soaked in blood haunted me; the truth was, I deserved so much worse. It had occurred to me—many times—that I belonged in jail.

“Did your father disapprove of your relationship with this woman?” Dr. Haven asked.

“He was horrified by it.”

“We’ve been focusing our therapy on your childhood memories, but I have to be honest. I think nothing is more important than recalling these memories. Have you ever tried to stimulate your recall of that night?”

“Never.”

“What about retracing your steps from those days?”

“I haven’t set foot in Berlin since that time. Or Germany, for that matter.”

“Theo,” she said. “You have to face this. You need to know what you did.”

She was as nonjudgmental as a person could be, but her urgency was unmistakable. “I know.”

“You’re aware from the therapy we’ve done that there’s nothing more important than triggering your sensory memory. You need to visit Berlin to do that. I’m not saying it will all come back, but that would be essential to unknotting this.”

“I can’t go away right now. My son needs me.”

“Your son needs a father who can nurture him,” Dr. Haven said. “If you’re determined to distance yourself from reality, you won’t be able to do that. Take a couple of days for yourself. It really is that important.”

“I can’t leave Teddy,” I said.

“Are you able to be there for him now, or are you dealing with too many of your own issues?” she asked.

I couldn’t argue with that.

“Theo, do you remember when you first came to see me?” she added. “You told me your family had lied to you throughout your life, but for the first time, you had proof.”

“Yes.” I could never forget. That proof—a letter I’d received three years ago—was with me at all times.

“You wanted to know why your family would do that to you. I told you I couldn’t answer that—only you could. But you can’t hide from the truth, no matter how ugly it is. You need to face it.”

She was right. I had no choice. I pulled out my phone and booked the first flight I could get to Berlin.

CHAPTER 20 DEIRDRE

CHAPTER 20

DEIRDRE