Der Schädelring: Thriller (German Edition)

all of them were out of her life, Mitchell, her father, the bad people, everyone who had ever tried to hurt her.
    All she needed was Dr. Forrest.
    She made sure the curtains were tight, resisting an impulse to check the sash lock again. She thought of the bat and wondered if she should return it to its place under the bed. No, she was brave now, she gained strength through Dr. Forrest. Tomorrow she would tell the doctor all about this strange day, and by the end of the session, she might even be able to laugh about it.
    For now, she needed to sleep, because the exhaustion had settled upon her flesh as soon as the panic had abandoned it.
    She went to the closet to get a nightgown.
    When she opened the door, she saw the yellowed paper pinned to a dress sleeve.
    The drawing was done in red crayon, of a crude star shape in a lopsided circle, similar to the image carved on the wooden ring box.
    Underneath the pentagram, written in a childish hand, was: HELLO JOOOLIA.

 
     
    CHAPTER TWENTY
     
    "Who do you think left the note?" Dr. Forrest asked.
    Julia held her hands in her lap, fingers fidgeting, palms moist. The paneled walls of Dr. Forrest's office had always provided comfort, but today they seemed closer than usual, more oppressive. The smell from the coffee maker crowded the air. Julia's chair squeaked, the noise magnified by the long pause.
    Julia couldn't meet the therapist's eyes. But Dr. Forrest was kind, was Julia's savior, was her tour guide through the house of her head. Dr. Forrest wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.
    "Come now, Julia," the therapist said gently. "You can trust me, remember?"
    "I don't know," Julia said, breath catching. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, her knees trembled beneath her slacks.
    "You don't know who left it?"
    "No."
    "The man was arrested for breaking into your house."
    "Except Walter said the window was already open."
    "This Walter . . . do you trust him?"
    Julia looked outside. Dr. Forrest usually kept the shades drawn during their sessions, but today was so glorious that it invited cheerful thoughts. The sun splashing the red and golden trees, the sky a soft shade of blue, the clouds spread thin and wispy above the mountains. A day for hoping, a day full of optimism, the promise of coming winter's decay carefully hidden beneath the vibrant splendor.
    "I don't know him very well," she finally said.
    "Stay away from him. He's not conducive to your healing."
    "But he was nice to me. Besides you, he's the only one that hasn't hurt me."
    "It's only natural for you to feel vulnerable. After what happened with Mitchell—"
    "You said we didn't have to talk about that anymore."
    "Of course. We'll have to deal with it eventually, but today, let's work on the note."
    "It's from one of the bad people," Julia said decisively. "They're back. They followed me here."
    "Now, Julia, just because you found out that this Snead person moved to Elkwood is no indication of a conspiracy. The past is real, the abuse occurred, and you suffered tremendously. But we need to realize that the past is over, or we'll never heal."
    Julia squeezed her eyes shut. "You're the one who says that I need to bring the past alive."
    Dr. Forrest stood and walked to the window. "Why are you angry with me, Julia?"
    "Angry?"
    "Is it because I wasn't there when you needed me? That you've made these discoveries of self and suffered the panic attacks without my being able to help you?"
    Julia gnawed at the end of her thumb, a new habit. "No, that's not it at all."
    "Are you blaming me, Julia?"
    Julia fought the urge to rise, to go to Dr. Forrest and kneel, to beg forgiveness. "It's not your fault. None of it. If I didn't have you—"
    Dr. Forrest turned, a smile dying on her lips. The therapist was trying so hard to be pleasant even though Julia was acting like a spoiled child. Julia was being unfair, and she knew it. Yet she couldn't help herself. Sometimes Julia thought Dr. Forrest carried more of her emotional baggage than she herself did.
    If only I had your strength.
    "You're the only thing that's kept me from going off the deep end," Julia finished.
    Dr. Forrest returned to her chair and scooted it close to Julia's. She held her patient's hand. "Let's stop this talk of going crazy, Julia. You are not crazy. Your scars are not the product of your imagination. Mitchell's attack wasn't a dream. The man peeping through your window wasn't made up. The note is a fact, it exists, it's real."
    Julia looked at her