The world seemed to quiet while Nina tried to process what she'd just heard. Words swam through her mind, echoing over and over again.
Implanting memories, Nina thought, and felt her mouth go dry. She'd known Alice's memories had been implanted in her head, but Nina had suspected it had been through someone else's doing. Or more like, she'd hoped that had been the case. More than anything, Nina had hoped that it had been someone else who was responsible for nearly driving her mad.
But she was afraid Fearnley's memories had been tampered with while she was gone. It made sense. Nina had expected for her patient to be different upon her return. Alice had been relieved when that wasn't the case. Someone else implanted memories into Fearnley.
Nina thought of the daughter the man thought he had and knew Alice couldn't have done that. Just like she couldn't have been the one to place memories of a childhood friend Nina had never known inside of Nina's mind.
Mrs. Cassill was looking at Nina with a curious expression. There was concern there, and Nina knew she needed to snap out of it and get on with her questions.
"Memory implants, that's interesting. I've read about them, seems like they're set to be used to treat psychological issues. Once the FDA approves them, of course." Nina remembered that, and she also remembered Ben commenting on protests against the use of implanted memories in therapy. By the way Mrs. Cassill shifted in her seat, she knew about the opposition to the idea as well.
"Yes, that's what they're meant to be used for, but to be honest," she paused, hesitating as she stared down at the cup in her hands. "Well, Alice wasn't very fond of the idea."
"Did she have other uses in mind?" Mrs. Cassil shook her head.
"No, she just didn't like the idea of tampering with others' memories. Alice—her work—was all about restoring people's minds, their memories. It's why she was so interested in hippocampal implants. As far as implanting false memories, well, I don't think she was comfortable with the idea, to be honest."
"Is that what she said during her visit?" Nina asked, her own mind whirring at the new information.
"She didn't, but she wasn't here for long. And there was this sense I got while she was here, like she was nervous about something." The woman frowned, her eyes taking on a look as if she were stuck in her own memories. Thoughts of her daughter and what might have been on her mind the last time they spoke. "I tried to ask her what was bothering her, but she would just say she was tired. Work had been keeping her busy. I didn't pry after that. Now I think I should have. Maybe then. . ." she trailed off, and Nina could see the pain the woman must have felt at that moment.
"Well, what's done is done," she said, with a finality that told Nina she didn't want to think about what could have happened if she'd intervened. The possibility that her daughter's death lay—in part—on her shoulders was too heavy a burden for her to carry at the moment. Nina wished she could have told her it wasn't her fault. That Alice had known something was wrong all along.
"If Alice wasn't fond of the idea of implanting memories, then do you know why she ended up taking on the project?" Nina asked, deciding it would be best to change the subject. Already Mrs. Cassill's hands were beginning to shake with the effort of keeping her emotions in check.
"I'm not really sure. Like I said, she didn't talk much about that particular project while she was here, and before that she'd been working on neuroprosthetics. It might have been because of her experience working with memories, but I'm not sure. To be honest, she might just have been pressured into it."
"Is that something that happened often?" Mrs. Cassill shook her head at the question.
"Not as far as I know, but Alice was always good at what she did. From what I've found out about the project, they wanted the best for the job. That was Alice." The woman was smiling, a sad little twist of the lips that was charged with pride and what could only be love for her daughter.
"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.
"It's what the police say. As far as I'm aware, the man they've caught confessed," Nina said with a sigh, deciding it would be best to feign ignorance. After all, she doubted Mrs. Cassill would believe her. Nina was still having trouble believing everything she'd been through. After observing Nina for a while longer, as if trying to find a lie in her words, Mrs. Cassill let out a soft sigh.
"You mentioned Alice went on a walk while she was here, do you know if she might have talked to anyone else? Or where she went?"
"No, I don't think she really talked to anyone. She was quiet, always had a thoughtful look, like something was constantly on her mind. I don't think she even noticed anyone while she was out." She pulled her sweater closer to herself, crossing her arms across her chest. Nina knew she had to be done soon before Mrs. Cassill became too uncomfortable. "She might have gone to the woods. Alice always liked going there ever since she was little. My husband always liked hiking and used to take her along," she said with a little smile.
Her eyes took on a distant look that told Nina she was lost in memories of a happier time. After a moment, she seemed to come back to herself, her gaze focusing back onto Nina as she turned her eyes towards the younger woman.
"I don't know what made Alice come here, or why she took on a project she disagreed with. All I know is that there was something bothering her, and now she's gone." Mrs. Cassill's voice cracked at the last part, and Nina could almost feel the pain of loss—something that had once been so strong that Nina doubted it would ever go away.
For an instant, there was a flash of an image in her mind. There was the giggling of a child and a warm voice calling out. There was a woman at the end of a hall and a feeling of comfort that came with her presence.
Mom. The thought crossed Nina's mind before she could stop it and then there wa a stinging sensation building up in the back of her eyes.
Then, she was back in the cozy living room of Alice's home, a barely touched glass of water in front of her and the questioning gaze of a grieving woman boring into her. Nina forced herself to relax, willed her hand to stop shaking.
"I'm sure you'll get the answers you need, Mrs. Cassill," Nina said, not knowing what else she could say. More than anything, she knew there was nothing that would ever wipe away the pain the woman felt. "But I think Alice came here because she needed you. She needed a place that felt safe—comforting. You gave her that. Whatever it was that was bothering her, I'm sure she was happy while she was here."
Mrs. Cassill gave Nina a shaky smile, eyes glistening and lips pressed tightly. She didn't say anything, perhaps because the only thing that would come out of her would be a sob that, like a dam holding back a flood, would release the grief she had been holding back. Nina understood that much, and she knew there were no more questions she could ask.
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Cassill. I know this wasn't easy for you, so thank you for listening and answering my questions," Nina said, and then made to stand. Her legs felt stiff—her whole body did—but she knew it was time to go.
"I'm glad you came," the older woman said. "Talking about Alice, it made me remember. You know, I think all this time I've been avoiding that. It hurt too much. Still does if I'm being honest." She let out a laugh that was weighed down by a deep sadness.
Nina smiled, feeling genuine relief at hearing that she hadn't cause the woman too much trouble. Perhaps it was because she offered her true understanding, because they both knew the feeling of losing someone who claimed such a large piece of their lives. When Nina looked at Alice's mother, she felt even more certain that what she was doing was the right thing, that it would all be worth it in the end. That they all deserved—more than the truth—justice, whatever form that came in.
For that, Nina needed one more thing before she could leave.
The water was cold as it splashed down onto Nina. She managed to catch the glass before it could roll off the table and hit the ground, shattering into a myriad pieces. The way she jumped at the sudden and frigid sensation on her legs was genuine enough, even if she fully meant to tip the glass over as she reached for it.
"I'm so sorry," she said, setting the glass down onto the coffee table. Water still dripped over the edge of the table and onto the floor, pooling at Nina's feet. "I'll clean it up."
"No, no, it's okay. Don't worry about it, it's only a bit of water," Mrs. Cassill said. "I'll clean this, why don't you go dry off? The bathroom is upstairs, first door on the left."
She gave Nina a quick smile and sent her off before heading to get something to dry up the mess. Nina tried not to feel bad as she walked out of the room and towards the stairs.
The house was nearly silent as Nina walked farther and farther away from where Alice's mother was. All of the sounds of her shuffling about in the living room were all but gone. Only the sounds of soft music drifted by as Nina climbed the stairs. Idly, Nina thought of how familiar the melody was.
Once she reached the top of the stairs, Nina felt a sense of apprehension, for the first time fearing what it was that she would find there. The very air felt tense, almost as heavy as the last couple of steps Nina had to take. She breathed in deeply, exhaled slowly, and stepped onto the second floor.
As soon as Nina's gaze landed upon a hauntingly familiar hall, she felt the world spin around her. A dreamlike fog settled upon her as reality blurred with the surreal memories that filled her mind. All at once, recalled the heavy scents of wood and earth. The petrichor smell that pervaded the air after rain and the spices that made her think of fall and trees laden with leaves painted in warm tones.
Then, there was the aroma of wildflowers, gentle yet vivid and warm like a spring day. There was the giggling of a child and the soft piano notes in the distance—the clacking of feet against a hardwood floor, the rapid beating of her heart, the call of a name by a loving voice. And then, there was the glimmer of a silver mirror at the end, a door opening with light streaming through, a small, pale hand—piercing green eyes that made Nina's heart clench.
All of these inhabited the same space for an instant that felt like an eternity, Nina's mind filled to the brim with all of those memories that had never been hers.
She stood there, eyes glazed over and nearly swaying on her feet as she stared straight ahead. The hall seemed to stretch out for miles, and the first step that Nina took felt like too great an effort. Even so, her feet moved on a steady pace as the memories continued to flood into her mind.
Cream colored walls seemed to close in around her as she continued to move forward and a mirror that she wasn't sure was there glittered beneath the warm light. Nina could hear blood pounding in her ears, nearly drowning out the soft music that still played. In the back of her mind, there was a strong feeling of wrongness struggling to make it to the surface, like a warning going ignored. Nina walked on.
She was just a few steps away from gazing into the mirror, wondering what she would find there. And for once, the thought of green eyes staring back wasn't so unsettling.
It's not a memory, Nina told herself. This is real. This is where Alice lived.
Nina stopped, closed her eyes, and then pushed away those memories for the time being. Her head was pounding, enough so that she wondered if she would make it further down, if she wouldn't simply collapse from the pain and the memories overlapping with what lay in front of her very eyes.
She could see the hall, stretching out in front of her, and a closed door at the end, the contents behind it unknown. A child's laughter echoed in her mind.
"Alice." A now familiar voice followed soon after and Nina had to fight not to turn around.
Almost there, she thought instead, mere steps away from the end of the hall.
She ignored the frame on the wall, her eyes focused straight ahead even as green eyes flashed in her mind. Nina forced herself not to dwell on that, not to think about the ever changing pictures and the pleading look from a dead woman. Finally, she stood in front of the door, and her hand reached out towards it—scars just peeking out from the edge of her coat, so different from the small pale hand of her memories.
Nina's fingers closed around the doorknob, cold metal that snapped her out of those memories. For a moment, she simply stood there, wondering if she truly wanted to see what was on the other side of the door. It took her only a second longer to make up her mind.
The doorknob turned beneath her grasp and, with a soft push, the door opened to reveal the room inside. Instantly, Nina knew where she was. The room was painted a soft yellow tone making it seem brighter than the rest of the house. It was well kept, with the shelves free of dust. The bed, covered in a duvet with a simple floral pattern, was perfectly made. Nina had the thought that the room was welcoming and warm—the two things that Alice had needed the most when she'd decided to return to her childhood home.
At that moment, as Nina stood on the doorway to what was unmistakably Alice's room, she yearned for her own home. A place that she had left long ago, when the memories had been too much and the pain of loss too fresh in her heart. It made Nina wonder how Alice's parent's could keep the room as if their daughter could return at any moment instead of locking the door and shutting away those memories of her.
Nina stood there for a second longer before turning and softly shutting the door. Her hand slipped from the doorknob as she rested her forehead against the door and let out a tired sigh.
"What am I doing?" she said in a soft voice, and wasn't certain of what it was that she was questioning. All Nina knew in that instant was that there was a grieving woman downstairs and she'd just intruded into the last reminder of her daughter.
With that, Nina turned to leave. She took only a couple of steps before she stopped and turned to the frame that still haunted her mind. Nina looked at the picture in a black frame, light bouncing off the spotless glass, and couldn't help but stare.
There, on the wall, was one of the paintings that had so often crossed her mind. The warm tones coloring the leaves stood in stark contrast to the dark bark of the trees and the grey sky just barely visible through the foliage. It was an image that was well known to Nina, one that was like a brand to her mind, searing itself onto it until she could recall every line and spot of color.
Nina stared at it for what felt like an eternity, and then she knew where she needed to go.
- - - - - - - - -
Hey everyone! Hope you've liked this chapter and thank you for taking a look at it. As always, please
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