I lay on Dr. Carnegie’s couch, feeling the soft fabric beneath me, the dim light of the room creating gentle shadows on the walls. The hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic ticking of a clock formed a soothing backdrop. Dr. Carnegie’s voice was a calm, steady guide, helping me navigate the labyrinth of my memories.

“Focus on your breathing, Amanda. Let your mind drift back to that summer,” she said.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the present to slip away. As I lay back on the couch, Dr. Carnegie began the session, her voice guiding me into a trance. The room's familiar hum faded away, replaced by the vivid memories of that fateful summer.

I was back in the car, the engine's steady hum beneath us. Amelia was asleep beside me, her headphones shielding her from the world. The tension between my parents was palpable, their voices a muted undercurrent of conflict.

“David, we need to talk about Amelia. Her behavior is getting worse, and it’s affecting Amanda too,” my mother said, her voice edged with frustration.

“Not now, Laura. Not in front of the kids. We’ll talk about it later,” my father replied, his tone strained.

I could feel the weight of their unspoken words, a thick cloud hanging over us. They continued to argue in hushed tones, my mother insisting on addressing some documents, my father trying to deflect the conversation. I couldn’t make out all the details, but I sensed something serious, something they couldn’t discuss openly with us in the car.

When we arrived at the lake house, the familiar sight of the wooden structure nestled among the trees brought a brief moment of relief. I tried to hold onto that feeling, but the tension followed us inside, casting a shadow over our usual joy.

The scene shifted, and I was standing by the lake at night. The moonlight bathed the water in a silvery glow, and a dense fog rolled in from the forest. Amelia and I had snuck out, the thrill of our forbidden adventure making my heart race.

“Sometimes, I want to disappear from this world,” Amelia whispered, her voice a haunting echo in the night.

We ran through the woods, our laughter filling the air. But then, her laughter turned into a scream. Panic surged through me as I called out, “Amelia!” I saw a figure emerge from the shadows, moving toward her. Amelia’s hair clip fell to the ground, the ruby stones glinting in the moonlight.

The figure reached for Amelia, and she screamed, a sound that pierced through the night.

I jolted awake, my breath coming in short gasps. The memory was so vivid, so real, it left me shaken. Dr. Carnegie was beside me, her expression calm but concerned.

“Amanda, are you okay?” she asked gently.

I nodded, though my mind was still reeling. “I remembered more. Amelia wore the hair clip that night, the one with the ruby stones. She said she wanted to disappear... and then someone came for her. I saw a figure in the dark.”

Dr. Carnegie leaned forward, her expression thoughtful. “This is significant, Amanda. Your subconscious is starting to piece together the events of that night. We’ll continue to explore these memories in our sessions. But for now, I want you to focus on grounding yourself in the present.”

“I need to go back,” I insisted, my voice trembling with urgency. “I need to remember more. What happened next? Who was that figure?”

Dr. Carnegie shook her head gently. “I understand your urgency, Amanda, but we need to take it slowly to ensure your safety.”

I felt frustration bubble up inside me. “But I’m so close! I can’t stop now, not when I’m finally starting to remember!”

Dr. Carnegie placed a comforting hand on my arm. “I know this is difficult, Amanda. But your mind needs time to process these memories. If we push too hard, too fast, we risk causing more harm than good.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. She was right, of course. But the need to uncover the truth, to find out what really happened to Amelia, was overwhelming.

“Okay,” I said finally, my voice heavy with resignation. “I’ll take it slowly. But please, we have to continue. I need to know what happened to my sister.”

Dr. Carnegie nodded, her expression softening. “We will, Amanda. We’ll take it one step at a time. I promise, we’ll get to the bottom of this together.”

I left her office feeling a mix of hope and frustration. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, but the picture was still incomplete. I knew I had to be patient, to trust the process. But the urgency to find answers, to uncover the truth about what happened that night, burned inside me like a fire.

As I drove home, my thoughts were a whirlwind of memories and emotions. I couldn’t shake the image of the figure in the dark, reaching for Amelia. Who were they? And why had they taken her? I was determined to find out, no matter how long it took or what it required. I owed it to Amelia, to my family, and to myself.