Charging at him, all I can think about is how much I hate him. How much I want him dead.
I shove at his chest.
But my father has always been the stronger man.
His fist swings back.
I don’t feel it connect.
But my vision goes black.
And then all I can see is Jenny. Lying in a pool of blood.
Dead.
51
Let Go Of The Guilt
Emily's Search History: Specialists for complex PTSD and homicide-related trauma in London
Emily
Ablood-curdlingscreamshattersthe silence of the night.
I bolt upright.
Eli rocks back and forth on the bed, his head clutched in his hands.
He’s had nightmares every night since the discovery of Jenny’s death. They’re getting worse—likely a result of the EMDR and what it’s dragging to the surface. I hate how much pain he’s in. But if we don’t do this, we’ll never know what happened to her. We may never fully understand.
“Eli,” I murmur, stepping into the room.
“I killed her,” he mutters. Then, louder, “I killed her.”
After our last session, that truth felt inevitable. And yet, hearing him say it sends shockwaves through my core.
The rational part of me screams to run. But the part that can’tstand his pain forces me to stay.
“Eli,” I try again.
“It’s my fault” he whispers—not to me, but to himself. “I couldn’t—”
He breaks off, sobbing in that fragile space between sleep and waking.
I place a tentative hand on his arm.
He jolts. His eyes fly open, locking onto mine.
Tears spill.
“You’re okay,” I whisper.
“He hurt her,” he cries.
Wait.
He?