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