and instructs him in a teacher-like tone to remain quiet. He throws her a dirty scowl but thins his lips, surely to stop himself from spilling any profanities.
She closes all the windows, doors, and even the curtains. Only a dim light remains in the lounge area. When done, she settles across from me.
“Do you prefer to sit or lie down? The most important part is to be comfortable.” Her soft tone is completely different from how she addresses Shadow.
“I’ll lie down.” I’m already sinking against the old sofa. With a deep breath, I cross my hands on my stomach and try to get comfortable.
“Here’s how it’ll go.” Mist’s voice is smooth and comforting. “When I practised hypnosis with the girls from Le Salon, they wanted it as a way to reduce anxiety. The trance mode works in getting them in a focused state of mind. I realise that you want to reach a certain event of your past. So all you have to do is concentrate on that goal and go from there. Okay?”
My heart is almost leaping out of my throat, but the moment I meet Shadow’s encouraging gaze, I feel like I can do anything. I nod.
She starts talking in an even cooler tone, dragging out her sentences until each word is far apart from the other. She ushers me to relax and to focus on my goal.
My eyelids start feeling heavy and she tells me not to fight it and to close my eyes. I do.
“Imagine yourself at the top of a stair, slowly going down.” Mist sounds clear in my mind. “With each step down, you’re heading to the trance mode.”
As if her words are magic, a staircase does appear. It’s too bright, I squint as I take a step down and then another and another. The place at the bottom seems so awfully familiar. I keep heading that way with steady, firm steps.
“Sinking down and shutting down.” Mist’s voice accompanies me as the staircase turns darker with each step I take. “Sinking down and shutting down. Sinking down and shutting down. Shutting down completely.”
I shudder when I find myself in my old room like in that nightmare. I’m sitting beside Little Zoe who’s still sniffling. The sheets are jumbled around her small body and she tightens her hold around the pillow. A red object I can’t pinpoint peeks from between her chest and the pillow.
She’s still muttering that Dad is a monster and I shouldn’t love him.
“What do you see?” Mist’s voice drifts like a cool wave.
“I’m sitting beside the seven years old version of me the night before the incident.”
“Can you feel what she’s feeling?”
My lips tremble. “She’s scared.”
“Try not to project what you remember, but to feel it instead.” Mist’s voice softens. “Can you get closer to her?”
My brows furrow and I remain standing by Little Zoe’s bed. Her chanting continues on and on. It pierces my ears even though it’s barely a whisper.
“Don’t fight it. Try to feel it.” Mist’s voice is encouraging.
I sigh and sit beside Zoe. I reach out to her and my hand connects with her hair. I can touch her this time. Before I can rejoice, my eyes are shut. When I blink them open, I’m not sitting beside Little Zoe. My limbs are small and so are my hands. Tears stream down my cheeks and into my mouth until I taste salt.
It’s me. I’m Little Zoe now.
My parents’ fighting from down the hall continues louder and more intense. I remove the pillow from over my head and stare at the red object. The armless robot.
“How does she feel?” Mist asks.
“I’m her.”
“That’s good. Try focusing on that and all the emotions you felt back then.”
I do. Not only because of what Mist said, but also because my emotions are clear. I thought I was scared, but it’s not fear that’s in my chest. It’s a raw, deep sadness. I hug the robot closer as if needing its strength.
The words tumble out of my lips – Zoe’s lips. “Daddy isn’t a monster.”
The shouting stops. I continue hugging the robot as if its mere presence keeps me afloat.
I don’t know how long I remain that way.
Mum didn’t shout as much after tonight’s dinner, so maybe Daddy will stay this time. She made us Macaroni and cheese — mine and Dad’s favourites. It tasted funny, but since Daddy finished his dish, I finished mine, too.
He wanted to read me a bedtime story, but Mum told him she’ll do it. When he