Just Breathe

Chapter 17

Beth's mind felt like a cracked-open egg, the contents oozing and leaking everywhere.

So this is how it felt to have your mind violated, she thought. It was a particularly sadistic form of karma - the girl who could access anyone's secrets was being forced to give up her own.

By her own father.

Because that's who he was. The first round of questioning had convinced him that she was his long-lost daughter. And the things he knew...well, they'd convinced her.

This man - this awful, despicable man - was her father.

He'd created her...and he'd ruined her.

The mystery of how she came to be was pieced together from fragments - an offhand comment, a pointed question, an anecdote he couldn't resist sharing in that cold, clinical voice - until she had the story of her past:

She was the offspring of a biochemist and an English lit major - Dr David Montrose and Anne (in her father's retelling, her mother wasn't afforded a last name). They'd met in college when they'd both volunteered for a neuroscience experiment to earn some extra cash - an experiment aimed at mapping the neural pathways associated with latent psychic ability. Both David and Anne displayed the markers for it - a fact that Anne thought was an amusing tidbit to share at parties...and a fact that David became obsessed with.

When Anne became pregnant years later, David saw the opportunity to turn a latent ability into something much more...active.

He devised a cocktail of drugs to enhance neurotransmitter levels, forge synaptic connections and boost electrical activity in the region of the brain associated with psychic talent.

And injected them into Anne.

He told her they were vitamins. But in reality, he illegally experimented on his own wife. And when his daughter was born nine months later, he started experimenting on her too. She got the same cocktail of drugs, and a few others that he'd concocted. And she was subjected to endless barrages of tests and assessments until she finally manifested her psychic ability.

He'd done this to her.

She was like this - detached from humanity, locked inside her own skin - because of him.

"I thought your mother would be overjoyed," he revealed. "We were the parents of the most special and unique toddler on the planet. A wonder of modern science. A miracle. But all she wanted was...mundanity. She wanted you to be like every other child. Go to preschool. Take trips to the park. Have playdates with friends." His lips curled in disgust. "She couldn't see how important my work was!"

He started pacing, and Beth watched in fascinated revulsion as his calm, clinical facade slipped and the monster underneath appeared. "She started talking about divorce. About suing for sole custody - saying that I was an unfit father who was putting you in danger. Me!" He took a deep breath, and smoothed the wayward strands of grey hair over his head. "Well, I put a stop to that nonsense."

The words sent a chill down her spine. She licked her parched lips. "What do you mean? What did you do?"

"Hmmm?" he asked, looking at her with surprise. It was as if he'd forgotten she was there - he'd gotten so immersed in the memory of the past and the rage he still seemed to harbour against her mother that he'd lost track of the present. "Nice try, Jennifer. But I'm still the one asking the questions."

Jennifer.

Jennifer Montrose.

Her real name.

All her life she'd been desperate to find out who she really was. She remembered standing in Bruce's home, seeing that monogramed 'W' emblazoned everywhere, and wondering what her initial was. What her legacy was...