Page 11 of Tangled Past
Eli stepped through the entryway, his gaze scanning patterns in the dust. “No squatters at least, but someone’s been here recently. Footprints.”
JT stopped inside the living room. “We’ll need forensics to go over everything before we continue our search. Let’s get out of here.”
In the living room, a single photo hung crooked on the wall. Asa brushed away the dust with the back of his hand.
Raymond Dutton in uniform. A much younger Asa at his side. Both smiling into the wind as if nothing dark could ever touch them.
Asa’s throat closed. There was no running from this. Not anymore.
???
Asa held the door open to Tide & Thyme Bistro for Rachel, the bell overhead chiming softly as they stepped into the warmth. The scents of cinnamon, orange peel, and baked goods hung thick in the air. The coastal fog blurred the windows, giving the whole place an insulated, haunted feel—as if they’d stepped into a memory instead of a room.
Maya stood behind the counter, tucking a few linen napkins into a basket. Her shoulders stiffened when she looked up and saw him.
Rachel smiled gently and stepped forward, taking the lead. “Hi, Maya. I’m Rachel Wyatt. I work for Hope Island Securities. We’re helping Asa with his father’s case.”
Maya wiped her hands on her apron before coming around the counter, visibly uncertain but not retreating, her gaze locked on Asa. “I told you I don’t know anything about what happened to your father.”
“I know, but please hear Rachel out first.”
Rachel glanced at Asa and then went back to Maya. “I know this may sound strange, but I went through something similar to what you’re going through.”
Maya folded her arms without speaking.
Asa didn’t push. Rachel knew how to guide the conversation at its own pace. She’d lived through this.
The bistro was mainly empty except for a couple of people seated by the windows sipping coffee, oblivious to the undercurrent of pain lingering in the room.
Rachel’s voice lowered. “After my father and cousin were murdered, I lost everything. Not just them, but the memory of what happened. My mind shut the door so hard it was years before I even realized what was missing.”
Maya’s face paled. “You forgot the murder?”
“I forgotme.Who I was before it happened. Who I became after. Trauma warps your sense of self. It changes the way you see the world. But the scariest part? It changes the way you seeyourself.”
Asa watched Maya closely. Her hand drifted toward the delicate necklace she wore, her fingers absently tracing the chain.
Rachel continued. “Eventually, I underwent hypnosis. It helped, but it wasn’t without risk. Some memories were real. Others … I wasn’t so sure. I had to learn to hold the truth gently—like something fragile. Not force it.”
Maya’s voice was hushed. “Did you remember it all?”
“No,” Rachel said. “But I remembered enough to stop running from ghosts. That made all the difference.”
A long silence stretched between the three of them. Asa stayed quiet. This wasn’t his part to speak.
Maya turned away for a moment, staring at the foggy window. “I’m scared of what I’ll learn if I start digging. What if Isaw something far worse than I imagined? What if it wasn’t just me witnessing something? What if I—” She choked off the rest.
Asa stepped forward, gently placing a hand on her back. “You were four years old, Maya. There’s nothing you could have done that would ever justify the shame or fear you’re carrying.”
Rachel nodded. “He’s right. What happened in that barn wasn’t your fault, but the fear of the unknown has been driving you ever since. You deserve to take that power back.”
Maya turned to Asa again. “And you? Is this about your father and getting justice for him?”
He met her gaze with even eyes. “It started that way, but it’s not just about my dad anymore. It’s about you, too. About not letting whatever happened that night continue to destroy lives—including yours.”
Her lips trembled. “How do you move forward with something like this?”
Rachel reached into her coat pocket and passed over a worn business card. “This person helped me. He’s a licensed trauma therapist. If you decide to explore the memories, do it with someone who understands what it can unlock, and don’t go alone.”
