"Blayke?" My head snapped up. "What do you remember after that?" my therapist asked gently.

I shrugged. "I woke up in a hospital bed. Mom was crying. Angie and Charlie were huddled on either side of her, asleep," I admitted, my jaw clenching as the vivid memory came back.

"What about your father?"

"You-You know what happened... He died before anyone could help us," I replied as I shifted uncomfortably on the soft couch.

The therapist laid her hand on my arm. I shrugged it off and stood up. Pacing around her office, I stared at the framed degrees and pictures of her family I had long-since memorized.

"Blayke," she began. "Sometimes, a person's body can...act up when they're under extreme stress or dealing with...guilt. Do you think you have these blackouts because you feel guilty that an argument was the last conversation you had with your father before he died?"

Of course it is. You're the shrink. You should've figured that out by now.

I opened my mouth to speak, possibly to say those words aloud, when the timer beeped.

"Looks like my time's up," I said, scooping up my book bag. "See you next session, Dr. Kares."

Dr. Kares sighed and handed me an appointment card for next week's appointment as I dug Mom's car keys out of my bag.

"Blayke."

"Yes, doctor?" I teased.

Dr. Kares smiled. "Say hello to your mom and siblings for me."

"Sure."