That Which Survives

By Ciana Stone

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  Or leaves you in the cruelest prison of all.

There was a time when Maxwell Weston's life was one of service. An Army Ranger, whose life became a nightmare over one weekend of leave, a weekend that left him trapped inside his own body, unable to communicate. And all to cover the evil doings of a wealthy family whose avarice knows no bounds.

When he forgets how to hope, a light suddenly appears and she enters his life. One person whose love and faith in him, just might rescue him from his prison. What a strange twist of fate that hers is the face that haunts his dreams.

Two people, one dream. It's a race against time—and a ruthless family that will stop at nothing, even murder—to find the artifact and be the custodians of the immense power it holds.

Can Maxwell beat the odds?  It's all A Matter of Trust.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Original Syn
• Release date: Apr 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224105809

Book preview

Prologue

March, 1996

An Nasiriyah, Iraq

B ut I don’t want to go without you, the woman protested. Besides, we’re safer together and—

No. Her husband took her by the arms to still her. Listen to me. We can’t take the risk. You have to leave. The driver will take you to Al Basrah. Your tickets will be waiting at the airport.

Please. Come with us, the woman pleaded.

I can’t. You know that. If I stay, their attention will be on me. They’ll think I’m trying to cover—

What difference does it make? We’ve burned all our notes. No one will figure it out. Look how long we’ve been trying and we’re still stumbling around trying to make sense of it. Just come with us. We can start fresh when we get home and—

Sir, the car is ready, she was interrupted by the announcement from the door.

Go, her husband directed. Please, I must know you’re safe.

And you?

I’ll follow soon.

And what if—

I’ll be careful, he promised and pulled her close for a brief embrace. Now, please, you must hurry.

For a moment she clung to him, and then abruptly pulled away. Two days, she warned, then I come back for you.

He smiled and nodded and she gave him a parting kiss then hurried away. She paused long enough to pick up a large shoulder bag then went outside where the driver was waiting by the car.

Inside the house a teenage girl stood behind the half-opened door, listening and watching. She waited until her mother left the house then slipped from her hiding place. She ran down the hall to her father’s office.

Why are you sending us away?

In the process of stuffing papers and notebooks into an old-fashioned attaché case, the man stopped in midmotion. Mouse! Why aren’t you in the car?

Why? she repeated the question. What’s wrong?

Nothing. The man walked over to her.

Then why do we have to leave?

An exasperated sigh preceded his reply. We’ve finished our work here. There’s no need to stay any longer.

You’re lying. She looked up at him with a worried expression.

He pulled her into a tight hug and kissed the top of her head. Listen to me, he whispered. I need you to trust me on this. Can you do that?

She drew back and looked up at him adoringly, but still worried. I always trust you.

Good, then listen very carefully. This is important.

She nodded in silence and he began to whisper to her softly but rapidly. When he finished he withdrew a cigarette lighter from his pocket and handed it to her. She didn’t comment or question but slid the lighter into the pocket of her pants.

Now go, her father directed. And I’ll see you soon.

She gave him a quick hug. I love you, Dad.

I love you, Mouse. Now scoot!

She ran outside to find her mother getting out of the car. I was about to come looking for you. Her mother slid over to make room on the back seat.

I forgot something, the girl lied.

Well, get in. We have a plane to catch.

Why do we have to leave? the girl asked as the driver closed her door and got in behind the wheel.

Your father and I thought it would be nice for you to spend your sixteenth birthday at home. The woman looked out of the window as she spoke.

But we still have two months before school starts! And Dad promised I could go to the dig next week and—

Please! The woman smiled apologetically as soon as the sharp word was spoken. I’m sorry, honey, but it’s already decided. Dad will meet us at home in a couple of days.

The girl opened her mouth as if to argue then closed it and slumped back against the seat to stare out of the window. The woman turned and looked back at the small house they were leaving. Her uneasiness grew the farther away from the house they moved.

She didn’t notice her daughter taking a cigarette lighter from her pocket. The girl stared fixedly at it for a few moments then flicked it open and thumbed the wheel. A flame appeared. The mother turned to look at the daughter and at that same moment a bright blossom of fire lit the sky behind them, followed by a deafening explosion.

The woman and her daughter both turned at the same time to look. Oh my god, the woman whispered at the same moment the girl began to shout, Stop the car! Did you hear me? Stop the damn car!

The driver paid the girl no attention. Mom, make him stop! the girl screamed. We have to go back! Mom! Mom? Mom?

The woman felt as if her heart was about to explode in her chest. There was no doubt in her mind that the house she had just left had exploded. Just as there was no doubt that her husband was dead. That was why he was so eager for her to leave. He had known they were coming for him.

Mom? The girl shook her. Make him stop the car. We have to go back for Dad. We have to—

Shhh... The mother pulled her close and tried to calm her. For a few moments the girl refused to listen but finally she quieted.

It’s okay, Mouse. Everything will be fine, the mother promised. We just have to get to the airport. Dad will meet us at home in a couple of days. Trust me, everything’s going to be okay.

But what if that was our house? Mom, we have to make sure he’s okay. What if he—

Dad’s fine. I promise.

The girl’s look was one of fear and doubts. The mother knew she had to remain calm and strong. She could not let anything happen to her daughter. Once she was sure her child was safe she would return and look for her husband.

It was about a hundred and fifty miles to Al Basrah, where there was an international airport. The woman spent the trip looking out of windows, sure she would eventually see someone pursuing them. When they were within a few blocks of the airport at Al Basrah and she hadn’t spotted anyone, she began to have hope. Maybe everyone believed she and her daughter were in the house when it exploded.

Grief welled up, strong and bitter. She fought to suppress it. She didn’t have time for grief, not until her daughter was safe.

Suddenly the driver swerved and jerked the car to a stop at the side of the road. Why are you stopping? We have to get to—

Get out, the man ordered.

But we... the woman stammered to a halt. It was clear from the look on his face that it was futile to argue. And it would only cost her valuable time. If they hurried they could run the rest of the way to the airport.

Come on. She reached for her daughter’s hand. We’ll walk.

Her daughter gave the driver a hateful glare. Sure, it’s not that far.

They got out of the car, holding hands tightly, and started running. The woman scanned the face of every person they passed. She didn’t know who she was looking for, only that someone didn’t want her to leave Iraq, and that someone was obviously willing to kill.

A crowd of people coming toward them slowed their progress. What’s with you? the girl asked as her mother made a small sound of alarm when a man accidentally bumped into her shoulder.

Nothing, just a little nervous, the woman replied as she dodged a burly man who stepped in her path. You know how I hate flying without your father.

But why are you acting so weird and why—

We don’t have time for this, Mouse! the woman snapped then continued in an apologetic tone. I’ll explain everything when we get home but until then I just need you to do as I say.

But Mom! I still don’t see why—

The rest of her words were cut short by a man who ran into her mother, nearly knocking her down. The girl took her arm to steady her at the same moment a man stepped in front of them, blocking their path. You will come with me, he said in broken English.

The woman looked around wildly. An elderly couple steered around them. Just as they drew ahead of her, the woman shoved the man, knocking him into the man who had stopped them.

Run! she shouted as she grabbed her daughter’s hand.

Shocked at her mother’s behavior, the girl did as ordered. In and out of pedestrians they weaved their way along. It took them only a few seconds to realize they were being pursued. He’s behind us! the girl screamed.

The woman bolted out into the street, clutching the sleeve of her daughter’s shirt to pull her along. The sound of tires squealing made them both cringe, but neither stopped.

Why is that man chasing us? Mom, what’s going on?

Just run! the woman panted and looked around frantically. This way!

No! the girl shouted but her mother would not stop. They dodged around a group of men on the street and her mother pointed in the direction of the government airport. There will be soldiers there. We’ll be safe.

The girl cut a look over her shoulder. There’s two of them!

Keep running!

They were within view of the airport entrance when one of the men caught up with them. He almost pulled the woman down when he grabbed her arm from behind. The girl started beating at him with her fists but the second man grabbed her and pulled her away.

I demand that you release me! The woman tried to sound authoritative, despite her fear and breathlessness.

You will come with us. The man’s words were heavily accented and stilted, demonstrating his lack of proficiency in English.

I will do no such thing! The woman tried to pull away. I am a citizen of the United States and I demand—

A curse, shouted in Arabic, interrupted her. The man who’d been struggling with her daughter was bent over at the waist, both hands cupping his groin.

Mom! The girl leaped forward and kicked the man holding her mother in the shin. The woman took advantage of the opportunity and hit him as hard as she could with her free hand. Her hand went numb as it made contact with his nose. But it gave them the moment they needed to escape.

Like fugitives fleeing the law they ran, arms pumping and chests heaving, heedless of the looks they drew as they raced through the airport entrance. The girl ran into a man coming out of the doors to a terminal and all three of them nearly went down. It gave their pursuers time to close in on them again.

The woman looked behind them and saw that they were running out of time. Fear gave her a surge of strength and she pushed her way through the people leaving the airport, hanging on to her daughter for dear life.

She could see the gate ahead when two men stepped out in front of them. Her daughter was looking behind them and didn’t see the man coming for her until it was too late to stop. The mother saw the man, and the gun he was pulling from beneath his jacket just as someone grabbed her from behind. Knowing that her only child’s life was at stake gave her the strength she needed. She tore free from the man who held her and tried to move between her child and the man who was after her. Run! she shouted.

No, come on! The girl kicked at another man who tried to grab her. Mom! Come on!

As if seeing everything suddenly switch into slow motion, the woman saw the man with the gun take aim. At the same time the man she had broken away from tried to take her arm again. Her daughter was shouting at her to hurry and holding out her hand and people were streaming around them, voices rising shrilly as the gun was noticed.

For a moment she didn’t know what to do. Then she didn’t bother to think about it. The man’s finger began to tighten on the trigger of the gun and her body reacted without her having to think. She launched herself at the man.

Screams erupted as the sound of the weapon’s fire rang out. The young girl’s eyes widened in shock and she froze in place for a split second. Then a look of horror appeared on her face and her voice added to the cacophony. She tried to catch her mother as she began to fall but a man grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back.

Let me go! she screamed, tearing at the man’s hands and thrashing around. Mom!

The mother looked up from where she had fallen and saw her daughter screaming and reaching for her but she could not seem to make her body obey her commands to get up off the floor. Please, don’t hurt her, she rasped as the man began to drag the girl away. Please. She managed to raise one hand before total blackness claimed her.

Chapter One

Present Day

Charlotte, North Carolina

H ow’d it go? Paige Landers asked as her partner got into the car.

Fine, Detective Ryan Dalton replied. I’m just glad it’s over. It feels like I’ve been in court for a month. So, what’ve we got?

Homicide at the University Hilton, she replied as she pulled out of the drive of the courthouse and merged into the line of traffic. The housekeeper found the body when she went in to clean the room, around three. They were short-staffed so she didn’t get around to the room ‘til late. She nodded to a pad on the dashboard as she made a right turn. She notified the manager who called it in. We’ve got people on the scene.

Ryan picked up the pad and read the scribbled handwriting. Walter Van Dorne? He looked up for a moment as she made another sharp turn. What’s that say beside it?

He’s some scientist, Paige filled in. He was here to speak at the university as a guest lecturer. Got in a couple of days ago and was due to speak tonight. The university’s been notified that he won’t make it.

Ryan nodded and returned to reading the rest of the notes. He started to ask Paige how the man died but changed his mind. She sometimes got a kick out of ribbing him about the way death turned his stomach. He didn’t feel like her brand of torment today.

Less than fifteen minutes later they pulled up in front of the Hilton. An ambulance and several marked patrol cars were present as well as the medical examiner’s car. Flashing his badge to the uniformed officer at the door, Ryan was given directions to the crime scene.

He and Paige took the elevator up to the third floor. As soon as they got off they spotted the uniformed officers posted outside one of the rooms. Dalton, Homicide, Ryan said as he approached the room.

The officer nodded and stepped aside. Ryan walked over to where the medical examiner was kneeling beside the body. His breath caught in his throat at his first look at the body.

The man’s clothes and skin were shredded as if someone had taken a knife or some other sharp object and sliced him repeatedly down his arms, legs and torso. Blood drenched the clothing, turning the white shirt a deep red and the once light gray slacks into a dark crimson.

The most gruesome sight, however, was the man’s severed head which was arranged between the victim’s own hands on the center of his chest as if he were holding his head. Between the opened lips and teeth the stump of a finger protruded. It was not difficult to determine where the finger came from. The victim’s right index finger was missing.

Placed directly beneath the hands was a fragment of paper, bloodstained and bearing strange symbols. Aside from the bizarre manner in which the corpse was positioned on the bed, something else caught his attention. There didn’t seem to be any blood on the bedspread.

Ryan had never seen anything like it. Acid bile rose in his throat. The sight of violent death never failed to make him feel slightly nauseous but this one brought images of horror to his mind. He didn’t speak, but watched quietly as the medical examiner worked and the technicians dusted for prints and scoured the room for evidence.

After a few minutes, the ME stood.

Hello, Ryan addressed him. Ryan Dalton, Homicide.

Ross Waring, the ME introduced himself then gestured toward the fragment of paper on the victim’s body. This isn’t my specialty but I can guarantee that this isn’t ordinary paper.

Ryan looked at the paper. Sure enough it didn’t look like regular paper. In fact, it looked more like fabric. The fibers that comprised the paper were obvious. He studied the symbols inscribed on it then glanced at the ME. Do these symbols make any sense to you?

Not my line, Waring replied. But if you look close you’ll see that the blood is hiding something. It looks like the scribbles cover something else. We’ll have the lab study it. One thing I can make an educated guess about is the type of writing instrument.

Ryan’s eyebrows rose and Waring pointed to the severed head. Victim’s right index finger.

Ryan’s eyebrows rearranged into a tight frown. Before or after death?

Can’t say for sure at this point.

Ryan nodded and glanced around for Paige. She was busy scribbling notes and talking with the technicians. Thanks, Ryan said to Waring. I’ll be in touch. He crossed the room to Paige.

She was listening to the officer who was first on the scene go over his steps one by one. As she listened she scribbled furiously. Ryan knew better than to disturb her. Some people thought she was too much of a stickler for details. He knew that it was her methodical nature that made her such a good detective. He had heard from more than one member of the DA’s office that her thoroughness had saved more than a few cases.

Turning his attention back to his own duty, Ryan set about going over the scene, trying to freeze it in his mind. An hour later, he and Paige left.

What do you think? he asked as they got on the elevator.

I don’t know. She leaned back and looked up with a frown on her pretty face. You get anything on who he’s seen or talked with?

The manager will have a list of all calls he made from his room waiting for us. He let her exit ahead of him as the doors opened. We can pick that up on the way out, then I think we should take a run over to the university and speak with the head of the physics department.

I hate physics, Paige grumbled.

You mean you don’t understand it, he teased, knowing she hated to admit she wasn’t good at something.

She cut him a nasty look then checked the time on her wristwatch. You think anyone’s going to be there now?

Ryan shrugged and pulled out his cell phone. One way to find out.

Paige remained silent as he made the call. So? she asked when he finished.

Dr. Aldridge isn’t in but his secretary got in touch with him and he said he’d have someone meet us at his office at eight.

Then we might as well get something to eat, Paige said over her shoulder as she knocked on the hotel manager’s office door. As promised, he had the list of calls made from the victim’s room. They questioned him about any visitors the victim might have had and whether he had seen anyone around during the time of the murder.

Once their questions were answered, they headed for the parking lot. Ryan scanned the list of phone numbers as Paige unlocked the car and got in behind the wheel.

Where do you want to eat? she asked as she started the car and pulled out.

Doesn’t matter, he answered absently. The note the ME had shown him was puzzling. Something about it nagged at him. He just didn’t know what.

Paige jerked the car to change lanes and prepared to turn.

Guess I should call Senna. Ryan pulled out his cell phone. We had plans, he explained at Paige’s arched eyebrows. I don’t want her to wait for me.

So considerate, she said in a sarcastic tone.

Ryan ignored her as he placed his call. Hi, it’s Ryan. I’m sorry but I’ve got to cancel dinner. Something’s come up and it looks like I’m going to be working late. I’ll call you when I get home if it’s not too late. Sorry again. Bye.

Paige pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant and parked the car. You know, Dalton, you’re starting to act like a married man.

Ryan rolled his eyes. It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little more considerate. Aaron would probably appreciate you letting him know when you aren’t going to show up. Which reminds me. Didn’t you have plans to go to that dinner thing with him uptown? Maybe you should give him a call.

He’ll figure it out when I don’t show up, she said and got out of the car. Have you ever had the roast beef here? she asked over the hood of the car.

Ryan made no comment on either her lack of manners or the food. He simply followed her inside, wondering why someone like Assistant District Attorney Aaron Vaughn would put up with someone as self-centered and inconsiderate as Paige Landers. But watching the reaction of the host who greeted them at the door provided the answer to that question. Paige was the kind of woman who could make you feel weak in the knees with one look.

At thirty-four, she was shapely and carried her one hundred and thirty pounds well on her five-foot-eight frame. She was one of those women who had legs that seemed to go on forever, and liked drawing attention to them in short, tight skirts.

When they first became partners Ryan wondered why she wore high-heels with her height and the type of work they did. Now he knew. Paige used her looks just like she used everything else at her disposal—as a tool, to her best advantage.

Moving his eyes away from her swaying hips, he felt a momentary pang of guilt. Even though there was nothing between him and Paige, he had wondered, more than once, what it would be like to have those long legs wrapped around him.

He knew she was interested. The way she looked at him left no question about that. But he was involved with Senna and really didn’t want to mess up what they had.

Paige slid into the booth and immediately lit a cigarette. Ryan took a seat across from her and picked up the menu.

So... She reached over and pushed the menu down, forcing him to look at her. She gave him the look. Despite his familiarity with her it still hit the mark. He felt his dick harden against his will and shifted uncomfortably.

What’s up with you and Ms. Braintrust? She gave him a catty smile.

She has a name. Ryan started to lift the menu again, but this time she pushed it down to the table and held it.

Okay... She exhaled smoke in his direction and smiled. So, what’s the scoop? You two still going strong or has little Ryan had enough ice pussy?

Ryan frowned at her choice of words. Jesus, Paige! It was easier to be upset with her than himself. Every time she talked dirty his dick went on alert.

Well? She smiled coyly at him.

Everything’s fine, just fine. Now can we just drop the subject and concentrate on the case? What’s your gut reaction?

Paige’s face rearranged into a thoughtful expression. A moment later she started relating her impressions. By the time she’d finished they had eaten and were ready to leave.

Ryan got into the passenger’s seat and called his home phone. He keyed in his pass code and listened to his messages.

Did lover-girl call? Paige teased as she got in and started the car.

Ryan frowned and ignored her. Sometimes Paige was a real pain in the ass.

University of North Carolina at Charlotte

Dr. Laserian checked her watch as she entered the building. She still had a few minutes before her meeting. Maybe enough time to grab a cup of coffee. She went to her office and was unlocking the door when a male voice came from behind her.

Dr. Laserian?

Oh, hello, Mr... She searched a moment for the young man’s name. Harper. What can I do for you?

Call me Mike, he said with a hopeful smile. Well, he continued when she made no response. It’s about that trip you were talking about in class this morning. You know, the one to that lab in Illinois, during spring break?

Yes. She slipped her keys into the pocket of her jacket, not bothering to open the door.

Well, I was wondering if we could talk about it a little more.

I’m sure the literature I passed out in class gave all the details, Mr. Harper.

Oh, well, yeah, it did. But...well, I was kind of hoping we could...you know, talk about it.

She checked her watched then gave him a polite but distant smile. Perhaps we can discuss it further during the next class. Right now, I have an appointment.

Oh, well...maybe we could get together...you know, for a beer or something when you get finished.

I don’t think so. But thank you for the offer, Mr. Harper. I’ll see you in class. Goodnight.

Before he could say another word she opened her office door and slipped inside. Senna smiled to herself as she crossed the room, taking off her jacket. This was her second semester teaching at the university and Mike Harper was not the first student who had tried to take his relationship with her beyond that of student-teacher.

Senna understood. She once had a major crush on a psychology professor in undergraduate school, and had used every excuse she could think of to talk to him or stop by his office.

Dismissing such matters, she picked up the phone on her desk and called her home number. There were three messages. One was from an old friend of her father’s who was in town for a few days, checking to make sure they were still going to dinner the next evening. The second was from her Aunt Minora and the last was from Ryan, saying he had to cancel their date.

It was not until she listened to his message that she realized she had forgotten all about their dinner date. Dr. Aldridge, the head of the physics department, had called just as she was about to leave her office and asked her to meet him in the evening.

Now her curiosity rose. She couldn’t imagine what Dr. Aldridge wanted to see her about. As crazy as it was, part of her hoped he was going to tell her that they would be letting her go after the current semester.

Senna had not planned on being a teacher. Until the previous spring she had been working at the Fermi National Acceleratory Laboratory in Batavia, Illinois, where the highest energy accelerators in the world, the Teyatron, were housed, along with the world’s largest production and storage facility of antiprotons.

She had taken the job with Fermilab right after receiving her doctorate in physics. She had worked there a little over three years. During that time she went back to college to study archaeology, her father’s passion.

She would never have moved to Charlotte and taken a teaching position if it hadn’t been for Minora. Minora had been like a mother to Senna since she was eighteen. In fact, Minora was all the family she had left.

When Minora was injured in an automobile accident and paralyzed from the waist down, the doctors were unsure if she would ever regain the use of her legs. Senna felt she had to come to Charlotte to be close to her and support her through the long rehabilitation process.

She could not say that she regretted the decision. Even though she hadn’t planned on teaching, she wasn’t really unhappy with it. She had made new friends and had no major complaints about her life. At least no new ones, she thought, and then reminded herself that in the greater scheme of things, she had a pretty good life.

Her phone rang and she snapped to attention. Dr. Laserian, she said as she answered. Her eyebrows drew together slightly then relaxed. Thank you, she said and hung up the phone. She grabbed her keys and left the office, making sure it was locked before she headed down the hall to Dr. Aldridge’s office.

The door was open so she didn’t knock. His secretary’s office was empty but there was a light on in his private office. She walked to the door and tapped lightly.

Come in.

He was sitting at his desk with a pile of papers in front of him. He stood as he gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk. Please have a seat.

Thank you. She sat and waited as he came around the desk to take the seat next to her.

Scuttlebutt has it that thanks to you, enrollment in our department is up substantially. His smile was warm and sincere.

I don’t think I can take credit for that, sir.

I wouldn’t be too sure. It’s amazing what an attractive woman can do without even realizing it. But that’s not why I wanted to see you. I understand you are acquainted with Dr. Van Dorne?

Walter? Yes, he was a close friend of my parents before they died. After their deaths he became almost a part of my family. He was one of my mentors.

I see. He looked away for a moment. I don’t quite know how to say this, but Dr. Van Dorne has apparently been murdered.

Murdered? Are you sure? Why would anyone want to kill Walter?

I don’t know, but I’m afraid it’s true. I received a call from the authorities earlier. Obviously the lecture for tonight was canceled and the authorities have asked to speak with me about the matter.

Senna had ceased paying attention. She could not believe that Walter was dead. As long as she could remember he had been part of her life. There was a time, some years ago after his wife died, that she thought maybe he and Minora might get together. Nothing had happened, but they had remained close friends.

He had been almost like a favorite uncle to Senna. In fact, it was Walter who had changed her mind about her major in college.

Originally, Senna wanted to major in archaeology like her father and continue his work. Walter had persuaded her otherwise, by convincing her that it would be a waste not to put her mind to the area where her talents lay. He claimed she was a natural, and told her that her father would have wanted her to stake her claim in a field where her abilities would shine.

She listened, and majored in physics. She could not say that she regretted it. While most people thought of physics as something mysterious and impossible to comprehend, drawing the interest of only intellectual giants and social misfits, she found a certain beauty in the concepts that allowed her mind to be set free.

Senna?

Oh, forgive me. It’s just that it’s such a shock. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt Walter.

I can understand what a shock this must be, he took her hand in a fatherly fashion, and believe me, I hate being the one to tell you. I’m very sorry.

So am I. She gave his hand a grateful squeeze then extricated herself from his grasp and stood. Kenneth, if you don’t have anything else we need to discuss, I think I should go. I realty need to check on my aunt. She’s going to be devastated by the news. I should be with her.

Of course. If there’s anything I can do, all you need do is ask.

I appreciate that, Kenneth, but I don’t know anything anyone can do at this point. I suppose it’s something we’re all just going to have to try and accept.

Yes, that’s true. But the offer stands, Senna. Now don’t let me hold you up. Go see about Minora. She’s been so generous to all of us here at the university. She’s a very lovely and gracious woman.

Yes, she is. I’ll tell her you asked about her. Goodnight.

Senna ran down the hall to her office. She grabbed her purse, not even thinking about her jacket. She managed to hold it together until she was safely in her car, then the tears came. When she had cried herself out, she started the car and headed for Minora’s.

Chapter Two

Downtown Charlotte

Ian Drake rose from his desk chair and paced around the room with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his expensive slacks. He had been thinking about his session with Senna Laserian ever since she left. To say that she was the most challenging case he’d ever had was an understatement.

He had first seen her when she was eighteen. That was twelve years ago and in all that time he had been unable to make any real progress.

Running his hands back through his hair, he returned to his seat and opened her file on his laptop. Maybe there was something he should have picked up on in the beginning that inexperience made him miss, some key he could use to unlock her memory.

His phone rang and he punched the intercom button without taking his eyes off the screen. Will you need me for anything else, Doctor? his secretary Kendal asked.

No thanks, Kendal. I appreciate you staying late. Go on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sure, good night, Dr. Drake.

Ian’s eyes moved over the words on the screen, but his mind was traveling back in time to the day he met Senna Laserian.

It was warm and sunny that late May morning when Minora Laserian and her niece, Senna, walked into Ian’s reception room. He had been expecting them. In fact, he was eager to meet them. He had only been in practice for a little over a year and to be recommended to take over such a case was the most exciting thing that had happened to him.

The week before he had received a call from a private clinic in Pennsylvania, run by a doctor Ian had interned with, Dr. Edward Michaels. Dr. Michaels was looking for a psychiatrist specializing in disassociative personalities and amnesia in the Charlotte area, and came across Ian’s name.

Ian had gladly accepted the recommendation and Dr. Michaels had forwarded Senna’s files to him. Her history immediately intrigued him.

According