a haze of grief
ly ate, ba
n the art room was s
k man named Mr. Davies
It might help you remember what really happened. It could help yo
d. "I didn't
Mark, by the relentless ac
me dark part of her, a remn
o tired.
was the worst, seemed almost a re
whispered, "
ind eyes and a
room was diml
rmured, "Let your mind drift. Go
losed h
ce guid
hen,
ng, vivi
not herself. An angri
ily, confu
e of rage, alie
ving, not und
ox cu
oo
small, st
c need to hide
fel bag
y' s
vision, moving stealthily to a poorly
e, lidded clay
, placing the severed head insid
was so real
osis gasping, tears st
oked out, "Oh God,
he "recollectio
th a practiced expression
informed Dete
ommunity center, to the
the clay re
ifted
hypnotically-induced "memory" in
ented her guilt i
," her own "memory,
no fight l
rol. She had done
ter Mom"
t was
outcry in
mother do
now the definit
he loving mothe
killer had l
feasted on
guilt and self-loath
. She deserved wh
forward, a grim march
nd faced with an apparent full co
wanted it
ved she had done was a con
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