“If he had a lisp and not a slur, might that explain why I fell apart in court? It could have reminded me?”

“It could, but like I said, there’s a lot we don’t understand about PTSD.”

“The only alternative is that I folded under pressure. I don’t want to believe that’s true.”

“I doubt that’s the case. You’re stronger than you think. I’ve always felt that about you.”

“Thanks,” Lila said, acknowledging his compliment even as she silently disagreed with him. “I miss our talks.”

“Me too. I thought we were making some important breakthroughs when you ended our sessions.”

Lila thought that she might have misunderstood him. She looked at Dr. Roberts in confusion. “When I ended the sessions?”

“Yes. You had a number of issues that warranted deeper discussion. But it was your right to end the relationship.”

“I didn’t stop our sessions, Dr. Roberts. You told my mom that you didn’t need to see me anymore.”

Dr. Roberts raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Lila, but that’s not true.” He opened the file again and began to dig. “You wrote me a letter.”

When he found what he was looking for, Dr. Roberts handed Lila a piece of paper with a single typed paragraph. It informed Dr. Roberts that Lila was terminating her therapy. The signature at the bottom came close to being Lila’s—but it wasn’t.

“I…” Lila could find no words. How could this letter even exist?

“I called your house, spoke to your mother. She said that you decided to work with a different therapist. Was that not true?”

So many memories had been lost back then, disappearing into the murky dark of Lila’s denial—her self-loathing—but there had never been another therapist. Lila shook her head slowly as she remembered her mother’s many objections: the cost, the constant driving to appointments, and, of course, the embarrassment. People were talking about it: the rape, the investigation, the suicide—the ugliness that was Lila Nash. Which one had been the final straw that pushed her mother to forge that letter?

On the inside, Lila felt like she was back on that rotted bridge, the boards beneath her feet crumbling and falling into the abyss. On the outside, though, she tucked her mother’s betrayal into a tiny corner of her heart, and asked Dr. Roberts to make a copy of the letter for her.

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The names of criminal attorneys got tossed around the jail like baseball trading cards. This one’ll get you out. That one sucks. The woman with the big tits is nice to look at but doesn’t know her way around the courtroom. The pod buzzed with scouting reports given by men who knew this stuff firsthand, which was helpful, because the right attorney was crucial to the next step in Gavin’s plan.