“I remember her,” I whisper softly. Dr. Malloy nods, discarding her notebook beside her on a small table. “Your mother.” “Yes.” My throat feels tight and ragged, stinging with remorse. “I–I think I’m done here. With these sessions, I mean.” She nods again. “I’m not certain I desire anymore answers. I feel at peace with the memories I’ve recovered,” I explain, licking my lips and tasting the salty tears that gathered there. “The hole I felt has been filled. She was all I was looking for.”
