Sidney Sheldon - Tell me your dreams

Ashley sat there, her face dead white. "She's a mon— I'm a monster."

Gilbert Keller said, "No. Ashley, you must remember that Toni was born out of your pain, to protect you. The same is true of Alette. It's time to bring this to a closure. I want you to meet them. It's the next step to your getting well."

Ashley's eyes were tightly shut. "All right. When do we... do this?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Ashley was in a deep hypnotic state. Dr. Keller started with Toni.

"Toni, I want you and Alette to talk to Ashley."

"What makes you think she can handle us?"

"I think she can."

"All right, Dockie. Whatever you say."

"Alette, are you ready to meet Ashley?"

"If Toni says it's all right."

"Sure, Alette. It's about time."

Dr. Keller took a deep breath and said, "Ashley, I want you to say hello to Toni."

There was a long silence. Then, a timid, "Hello, Toni..."

"Hello."

"Ashley, say hello to Alette."

"Hello, Alette..."

"Hello, Ashley..."

Dr. Keller breathed a deep sigh of relief. "I want you all to get to know one another. You've suffered through the same terrible traumas. They've separated you from one another. But there's no reason for that separation anymore. You're going to become one whole, healthy person. It's a long journey, but you've begun it. I promise you, the most difficult part is over."

From that point on, Ashley's treatment moved swiftly. Ashley and her two alters talked to one another every day.

"I had to protect you," Toni explained. "I suppose every time I killed one of those men, I was killing Father for what he had done to you."

"I tried to protect you, too," Alette said. "I—I appreciate that. I'm grateful to both of you."

Ashley turned to Dr. Keller and said wryly, "It's really all me, isn't it? I'm talking to myself."

"You're talking to two other parts of yourself," he corrected her gently. "It's time for all of you to unify and become one again."

Ashley looked at him and smiled. "I'm ready."

That afternoon. Dr. Keller went to see Otto Lewison.

Dr. Lewison said, "I hear good reports, Gilbert."

Dr. Keller nodded. "Ashley's made remarkable progress. In another few months, I think she can be released and go on with her treatment as an outpatient."

"That's wonderful news. Congratulations."

I'll miss her. Dr. Keller thought. I'll miss her terribly.

"Dr. Salem is on line two for you, Mr. Singer."

"Right." David reached for the phone, puzzled. Why would Dr. Salem be calling? It had been years since the two men had talked. "Royce?"

"Good morning, David. I have some interesting information for you. It's about Ashley Patterson."

David felt a sudden sense of alarm. "What about her?"

"Do you remember how hard we tried to find the trauma that had caused her condition, and we failed?"

David remembered it well. It had been a major weakness in their case. "Yes."

"Well, I just learned the answer. My friend, Dr. Lewison, who's head of the Connecticut Psychiatric Hospital, just called. The missing piece of the puzzle is Dr. Steven Patterson. He's the one who molested Ashley when she was a child."

David asked incredulously, "What?"

"Dr. Lewison just learned about it."

David sat listening as Dr. Salem went on, but his mind was elsewhere. He was recalling Dr. Patterson's words. "You're the only one I trust, David. My daughter means everything in the world to me. You're going to save her life.... I want you to defend Ashley, and I won't have anyone else involved in this case...."

And David suddenly realized why Dr. Patterson had been so insistent on his representing Ashley alone. The doctor was sure that if David had ever discovered what he had done, he would have protected him. Dr. Patterson had had to decide between his daughter and his reputation, and he had chosen his reputation. The son of a bitch!

"Thanks, Royce."

That afternoon, as Ashley passed the recreation room, she saw a copy of the Westport News that someone had left there. On the front page of the newspaper was a photograph of her father with Victoria Aniston and Katrina. The beginning of the story read, "Dr. Steven Patterson is to be married to socialite Victoria Aniston, who has a three-year-old daughter from a previous marriage. Dr. Patterson is joining the staff of St. John's Hospital in Manhattan, and he and his future wife have bought a house on Long Island...."

Ashley stopped and her face contorted into a mask of rage. "I'll kill the son of a bitch," Toni screamed. "I'll kill him!"

She was completely out of control. They had to put her in a padded room where she could not hurt herself, restrained by handcuffs and leg-irons. When the attendants came to feed her, she tried to grab them, and they had to be careful not to get too close to her. Toni had taken total possession of Ashley.

When she saw Dr. Keller, she screamed, "Let me out of here, you bastard. Now!"

"We're going to let you out of here," Dr. Keller said soothingly, "but first you have to calm down."

"I'm calm," Toni yelled. "Let me go!" Dr. Keller sat on the floor beside her and said, "Toni, when you saw that picture of your father, you said you were going to hurt him, and—"

"You're a liar! I said I was going to kill him!"

"There's been enough killing. You don't want to stab anyone else."

"I'm not going to stab him. Have you heard of hydrochloric acid? It will eat through anything, including skin. Wait until I—"

"I don't want you to think like that."

"You're right. Arson! Arson is better. He won't have to wait until hell to burn to death. I can do it so they'll never catch me if—"

"Toni, forget about this."

"All right. I can think of some other ways that are even better."

He studied her a moment, frustrated. "Why are you so angry?"

"Don't you know? I thought you were supposed to be such a great doctor. He's marrying a woman with a teen-year-old daughter. What's going to happen to that little girl, Mr. Famous Doctor? I'll tell you what. The same thing that happened to us. Well, I'm going to stop it!"

"I'd hoped we'd gotten rid of all that hate."

"Hate? You want to hear about hate?"

It was raining, a steady downpour of raindrops flitting the roof of the speeding car. She looked at her mother sitting at the wheel, squinting at the road ahead, and she smiled, in a happy mood. She began to sing:

"All around the mulberry bush,

The monkey chased—"

Her mother turned to her and screamed, "Shut up. I told you I detest that song. You make me sick, you miserable little—"

After that, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The curve ahead, the car skidding off the road, the tree. The crash flung her out of the car. She was shaken, but unhurt. She got to her feet. She could hear her mother, trapped in the car, screaming, "Get me out of here. Help me! Help me!"

And she stood there watching until the car finally exploded.

"Hate? Do you want to hear more?"

Walter Manning said, "This has to be a unanimous decision. My daughter's a professional artist, not a dilettante. She did this as a favor. We can't turn her down.... This has to be unanimous. We're either giving him my daughter's painting or we don't give him anything at all."

She was parked at the curb, with the motor running. She watched Walter Manning cross the street, headed for the garage where he kept his car. She put the car in gear and slammed her foot down on the accelerator. At the last moment, he heard the sound of the car coming toward him, and he turned. She watched the expression on his face as the car smashed into him and then hurled his broken body aside. She kept driving. There were no witnesses. God was on her side.

"That's hate, Dockie! That's real hate!"

Gilbert Keller listened to her recital, appalled, shaken by the cold-blooded viciousness of it. He canceled the rest of his appointments for the day. He needed to be alone.