The Persistence of Memory | ✔

21

"Do you know for how long Alice worked on implanting memories?" Mrs. Cassill shook her head, something Nina had expected.

"No, but it couldn't have been that long. She called me a couple of weeks before she visited. It had been a while since we talked, since she was busy with work. That day, she told me about her work with prosthetics. I think she had a new patient. She said something about him making good progress. Alice sounded excited, but she usually did when she was working on something that she thought was interesting, or with people she truly wanted to help," Mrs. Cassill said, her eyes lighting up just the slightest bit at the thought. "I think, what Alice loved more than anything, was helping people. She liked helping them put their life back together."

Nina could have laughed at that, bitter and filled with a dark sort of amusement. She thought of Fearnley, sitting in a cell and the guilt that ate at him as he thought of Alice's death. Of her fractured mind, the cracks deepening with every passing day and the memories that haunted her refusing to disperse. And then, she thought of Nat. Nina thought of a mismatched gaze that turned to a green one even as her mind hurriedly shut away those memories.

But then, she looked up at Mrs. Cassill—at Alice's mother—who was still sitting in front of her. Her shoulders were hunched, her eyes holding a sorrow Nina knew all too well. She was, in that moment, just a vulnerable woman. A grieving mother. Nina didn't have the heart to tell her of the way her daughter had driven her to the edge of madness.

Instead, Nina asked another question.

"Do you think she came here to get away from work? Maybe take break from it all, if she was unhappy with what she was doing?"

Mrs. Cassill seemed to think about it, her eyes flickering to one side, a faraway look in them for only a moment before she turned back to Nina.

"Maybe she did. We thought that she might just have wanted to see how we were doing. Alice didn't visit often, so I suppose we were just happy to have her here. We didn't ask her about why she was visiting. She told us she couldn't stay for long, that she had work to do." The woman paused, hesitating before continuing. "She was here for a couple of days and slept for a good part of the first day. We thought she was just tired. It's a long trip and Alice made it on her own without any stops. The next day she was gone on a walk for most of the morning. We spent the rest of the time here, Alice didn't want to go out and we were happy to just have a chance to talk to her."

"Did she still look anxious when she left?" Mrs. Cassill nodded.

"She did, but maybe not as much as when she'd arrived. It felt like she was tired," Mrs. Cassill paused for a moment, the cup in her hand shaking slightly until Nina feared she would lose her grip on the delicate porcelain. "Sometimes, I wonder if maybe she knew something. If maybe she knew that someone wanted to hurt her." Her voice wavered, emotions she'd held back starting to overflow.

"Do you really think that's the case?" Nina asked, brow furrowed.

"I don't know anymore," the older woman said with a sigh, setting her cup down onto the coffee table. "They say it was a patient of hers. Someone she'd helped. I can't think of why they would want to hurt Alice, or why she would be afraid of her own patient."

She looked up at Nina then, her eyes shining with tears that she was fighting viciously against.

"Do you think anyone else would have wanted to hurt her?" It was a question Nina didn't want to ask, but knew that she had to. The older woman seemed to think about it, remaining silent for a moment before slowly shaking her head.

"To be honest, I don't know why anyone would have hurt her. It's still hard to believe it was someone she treated." She looked at Nina then, a questioning gaze in her green eyes. It was as if she was aware that Nina knew more than she was telling her.