"At least you were treated well," he said. "Not all kidnap victims are so fortunate."
She shrugged. "They had money, and nothing was too good for me. I was young, I had everything I wanted, and more."
"I'm surprised you weren't recognized at school. Your photo was everywhere."
"We lived on a large farm and I was home-schooled until I went to high school," she said. "By then, I had grown, my hair was different, and I wore glasses to correct an astigmatism. Most of my life was spent on the farm before that. I enjoyed being around the animals and loved having my own small garden to tend. But somehow, I always felt like something was missing.
"Around that time, the dreams became more frequent again. I dreamt about picnics, lying on the grass, drawing pictures. The doctor they took me to see said something about being at the age where my body was maturing, and my hormones were fluctuating. He said the dreams were fantasies created by my subconscious. I believed him and, as I grew up, the dreams became less frequent."
Shaking his head, he reached out and placed his hand on hers. "Those were more than dreams; you were starting to remember. The picnics were real, and you spent hours drawing pictures."
"I know that now," she said. "After high school, I studied journalism, became the editor of a folklore magazine, and thought everything was as it should be. The day they both died in a car accident, I thought I was truly alone.
"The dreams returned again, nearly every night, and I began to wonder about a lot of things. They'd always told me that my paternal grandparents were dead and my maternal grandparents were living and working as missionaries somewhere in Africa but they had no contact with them.
"As far as I knew, neither of them had siblings, therefore no uncles, aunts or cousins. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I had visions of large family gatherings. I had dreams about a family, a brother, visits to grandparents... but it was all very vague. I wasn't sure if it was wishful thinking, longing for some type of family connection... or if some real memories were beginning to surface. It was all very confusing."
"I can only imagine what it must have been like. A therapist would have helped," he said quietly.
"I thought so too, but I didn't want to go back to the one I saw when I was younger. I always felt like he had just reinforced what my parents said. So I found a new doctor, one who knew nothing about me, or my parents.
"I told him everything, from the beginning, including the dreams. He said he was glad I had come to him. After several visits, he began to think that the couple who had raised me might actually have been the real abductors. The fact that I had been sick when I awoke in new surroundings, could mean that I had been drugged by some type of anesthetic.
