Always Watching

the hospital.” She didn’t say the last part with bitterness or anger. It was defeat. A child who’d stopped calling out long ago for her mother to help her. She said, “A couple of days ago, he found me down at the wharf, bought me a coffee, said he just wanted to apologize. That’s why I overdosed—he drugged me. Then it didn’t matter anymore. You already thought I was using again.” An angry shrug.
    Now I was also crying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “You’d make me talk about it, but I just wanted to forget it.”
    “You can’t ignore something like this, Lisa. You have to deal with it.”
    She threw her hands up. “Stop it, just stop it. You’re always pushing me to talk about everything. I’m not like you. I don’t want to talk about it.”
    Aaron’s hand pressed against her neck again. She turned to look at him.
    He said, “It’s time to tell your mother what you shared in confession.”
    “I … I don’t. I’m not ready.” It was the first time I saw her falter.
    “I thought you wanted to end your suffering and begin a new life?” He cocked his head, gave her a disappointed look that I was all too familiar with.
    “I do. I just—”
    She started sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. I’d never seen her cry like that. I stepped forward, wanting to shield her from all of this, to hold her in my arms. But she took a step back, retreating from me. I stopped.
    Aaron said, “If you want to let go of your anger toward your mother and move toward inner peace, you have to break free from your past.”
    Lisa took a couple of deep, shuddering breaths, trying to rein herself in, then with tears still streaming down her face, she turned to me. “It was me. I was the one who attacked you in Nanaimo.”
    Her words hit me like a blow, and I almost stumbled backward.
    Lisa, it had been Lisa.
    I found my voice. “Why? I don’t understand—”
    “I was there with some friends, and I wanted to score some drugs.” She looked at Aaron. He nodded for her to continue. She turned back to me. “I was going to ask to borrow some money, but when I saw you there, I knew you’d say no.…” She started crying again, covering her eyes, too ashamed to even look at me. I was also crying, trying to make sense of everything, angry and hurt.
    My daughter had left me lying in a parking lot. She had left me to die.
    I said, “Do you really hate me that much?”
    Her face was raw emotion. “No, I just…” She looked back at Aaron, wanting him to answer for her.
    He said, “It’s not about hate, Nadine. It’s about breaking free. Sometimes, we need to leave negative energies behind and open our hearts to a new family.”
    My anger surged again. “Are you actually saying that I’m a negative influence on my daughter? You don’t know anything about us, or our lives.”
    “He sees everything.” Aaron pointed to the heavens.
    So he still believed that the Light spoke to him. There was no way to argue with him. I had to just concentrate on Lisa. I had to get her out of there.
    I faced Lisa. “Baby, whatever you’ve done, whatever happened to you, we can work it out, okay? I love you no matter what.”
    She wouldn’t meet my eyes. I moved closer. “Lisa, please don’t shut me out. Can we just go somewhere and talk about this?”
    Aaron said, “She doesn’t want to go anywhere with you.”
    “She’s going to have to tell me that herself.”
    Lisa raised her head, met my eyes, her gaze again blank and flattened. She had disconnected from the emotions, put them all in a dark corner of her mind, where not even the strength of my love could force them out.
    She said, “I’m staying here. I want to be happy again.”
    “This place won’t make you happy.”
    She stared back at me. It didn’t matter what I said, even if told her about my own abuse. I’d seen that look in my patients’ eyes. Nothing would reach her now.
    Aaron said to her, “You’ve taken some important steps toward your spiritual growth. I’m proud of you.” He kissed her temple in a fatherly gesture. Lisa looked up at him, grateful. I wanted to pull his hands off her.
    I wanted to kill him.
    He said, “You can return to your room now, and I’ll speak with your mother. It’ll be all right.” He smiled at her.
    Her eyes slid in my direction, gauging my reaction, or seeking something—I wasn’t sure—but then she deliberately looked away as she passed by me.
    I tried one last time. “Lisa, please wait a