Shadowed (Unbound, Book 2)

Chapter Seven

The therapist's office was comfortable, if a place where all your problems and fears were laid bare and then dissected could be called cozy. Its soft colors and neutral tones created a welcoming vibe. The overstuffed furniture—a three-cushion couch and two matching beige armchairs—were homey. It was soothing, just like Dr. Stanzo who was thankfully a female doctor. Not that I had anything against men, but what if I wanted to share the confusion over what I felt with Calin? That would be more comfortable with a female.

Besides, men such as Devland were a problem for me right now.

Calin was still a boy and didn't quite fit in that category yet.

"You must be Noreena," Dr. Stanzo said when we'd walked into her office. She immediately reached out her hand and offered a friendly smile that was so contagious, I couldn't help but return it. Smiling, she waved her arm to the couch for me to sit.

"It's very nice to meet you, Dr. Stanzo," Devland greeted, turning on his charm but it didn't work.

Dr. Stanzo stepped up and blocked his way to the couch. "This will be a private session, Mr. Dwyer. You will find refreshments and reading material out in the waiting room."

His mouth opened but nothing came out. I decided to like her immediately. Her gaze didn't falter under his scrutiny and eventually, he pivoted to walk back through the door, although I imagined he'd allowed it to shut much more loudly than necessary out of spite. Despite being annoyed at the disruption, I was happy that something finally cracked his oh-so-perfect façade.

"I'm sorry about that." Dr. Stanzo turned around to face me with a smile, primly pulling down the hem of her blazer as though the short conversation with Devland had ruffled it. "Would you like something to drink?"

I shook my head and she sat in the armchair across from me where she could easily reach her pad of paper.

"Do you understand why you're here?" She snatched the thin pair of glasses out of her hair and hooked them behind her ear, settling in with her pad of paper and pen poised in the air, ready for the scribbling to begin.

"Because I have amnesia and couldn't remember my own name." I lifted my eyebrow, a small smile tugging the corner of my lips up. "You are supposed to determine if that's left me whacko, right?"

Without answering my question, she asked, "How does this make you feel?"

"You're kidding right?"

"I'm sorry?"

"So, you're going to ask me stuff and once I answer, it's going to be all how do you feel? The sky is blue. Oh? And how does that make you feel? I can't tell you much about anything else but that is gonna piss me off. I know how things are making me feel, Dr. Stanzo; I don't know who I am."

"How are you feeling about your amnesia, Nora? Frustrated? Helpless, maybe?" She set the pen against her paper and leaned forward to make eye contact with me, serious for the first time since I'd walked into the room. "I'm not going to ask you how you feel about every topic we discuss but this time I'm afraid it's simply unavoidable if we expect to be able to help you."

"Why? My body is healing."

"Sometimes physical healing isn't the cure for an amnesiac's memory to return."

"I don't get it. If my body heals, why wouldn't I remember?"

"Because sometimes it doesn't want to," she said and leaned back in the chair so she could make a note on her paper. "After suffering a traumatic event, sometimes the mind will block it out and sometimes that blockage will encompass all of a person's memories rather than just the one. Since you didn't hurt your head—"