Free Night Terror by Chandler McGrew

stared into the thick lenses, seeing both his clear eyes and the rows of books reflected behind her. It seemed like some sort of message: Here I am, eminent doctor with my knowing expression and my years of study, I can help you. Only he couldn’t. No more than Tara could.
    “What did you want?” he said, breaking her train of thought.
    “What?”
    “A boy or a girl?” he said, smiling again.
    “It didn’t matter.”
    “What about Richard?”
    “A boy, I suppose.”
    “You suppose?”
    “I don’t recall him ever saying one way or the other. He and Zach loved being together. They were so different in some ways and alike in others.”
    “Had you ever experienced dreams or… visions… like these before Zach’s disappearance?”
    She frowned. “No,” she said. Not like these.
    “Tell me about some of the dreams.”
    “They were about my childhood.”
    Cates wiggled his fingers. “What about your childhood?”
    “I didn’t have a happy childhood.”
    “Did you come from a dysfunctional family?”
    She laughed dryly.
    “You find the question amusing?” asked Cates.
    “I find the term inadequate.”
    Cates nodded, his eyes narrowing like a cat’s. “Tell me about your mother.”
    “I don’t remember her.” But the question about her mother bothered her more than the others.
    “No memories at all?”
    “No.”
    “How can that be?”
    “It was all erased.”
    “Erased?”
    “My aunt helped me to forget.”
    “Your aunt? How did she do that?”
    “Hypnotherapy.”
    “Hypnotherapy is usually utilized to help someone remember. Your aunt is a psychologist?”
    “Psychiatrist.”
    “Why didn’t you go to her for help?”
    “She’s retired,” said Audrey. She wasn’t here to discuss her relationship with Tara.
    Cates frowned. “Do you remember anything at all of your childhood? There must be something.”
    “Flashes. Images that probably aren’t real. I remember hiding in darkness.”
    Cates nodded to himself. His lenses were prisms now—reflecting the low light of the Tiffany lamps, in rainbow colors— making him seem buglike. “What were you hiding from?”
    “I’ve never talked to anyone about my childhood,” said Audrey, shaking her head. “I honestly don’t remember much before I moved in with Tara.”
    “Your aunt?”
    Audrey nodded.
    “How did you end up with your aunt?”
    “She took me.”
    “Took you?”
    “I was ten when she came and got me.”
    “She got a court order?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “But she must have.”
    “Must she?”
    “The state wouldn’t allow someone to just take a child from their parents.”
    “Well, she did.”
    “Your aunt knew you were in danger and she came to get you?”
    Audrey nodded again, frowning. There was something else tugging at her mind, something that she was missing. There was so much missing. For years it had seemed like a blessing, having only to deal with the filmy remains of her past, the occasional nightmare, the fleeting image or sound that recalled unknown terrors and might send a quick shiver up her spine and be gone. Tara would explain to her again and again that
yes
, the dreams were horrible, but she was getting better, that if she only knew how terrible it had been
before
, she would know just how much better she was. And the dreams had faded over the years until they were nothing but simple nightmares that Audrey had trained herself to deal with.
    “Why didn’t your aunt contact the authorities when she came to get you?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Did you tell her what was happening to you?”
    Audrey frowned. “I don’t think so,” she said.
    “But if you didn’t tell her, then how did she know you were in danger?”
    Audrey’s voice quavered. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, all right?”
    Cates ignored her. “Tell me about the night she came and got you.”
    Of all the places she was afraid Cates might take her, Audrey
really
didn’t want to go there. But once he’d conjured