The Unforgivable Fix Read Free Page A

“I’m surrounded by babies!” She chuckled. “You know, for all our so-called scholarly research, we know nothing about anything. It’s what keeps me going, you know? For so many decades we assumed infants lacked the ability to remember what’s happening in their lives. But I’ve developed a way—it’s difficult given their lack of speech—to test how infants less than three months old recall new stimuli presented to them. I’ve only done a pilot, of course, fifteen little ones, but I’ve been able to show they recall things that are going on in their lives at identical rates to my comparison group of freshmen undergrads. Can you imagine the implications? All those mothers and fathers hissing at each other over the baby’s crib and assuming the kid won’t remember a thing?” She raised an eyebrow toward Lydia. “But who am I talking to? You earn your living dealing with the fallout of what kids remember. Hopefully my work will help us understand the mechanism behind how humans are shaped by their past, even from the earliest moments of life.”
    Lydia offered a polite nod.
Do we really need to understand the how? Shouldn’t it be enough to realize that cruelty leads to pain…pain leads to fear…fear leads to broken lives?
Her mind shifted to Maizie again. How long would the memories of what the girl’s father did to her limit her ability to experience joy? At thirty-six, Lydia still battled the ghosts of her own childhood.
    And she would dance any tune the devil called to erase the memories of what she’d become.
    Lydia blinked and brought her awareness back to the conversation. “If you’re looking for people, I can’t help you, Sharon. I’m no longer in practice. And I never did see infants.”
    Sharon leaned back. “Oh, my. Am I turning into one of those a-holes I rant about? Damn it, the only time I contact you is when I need something, isn’t it? Such is the life of a lab rat, I’m afraid. Please forgive me.”
    Lydia smiled at the world-class scientist. “I understand how work can consume. It’s nice to see you no matter why you call.”
    “I’m just happy you’re still checking messages at your old office, or I wouldn’t know how to find you. Why do you keep the place if you’re not in business?”
    Lydia often wondered, too. “I love the space. It’s been good to me. And who knows? My license is current. Maybe I’ll dust off the shingle one day.”
    Sharon’s enthusiasm returned. She looked Lydia up and down. “You seem fit and well healed. And like I said, Olympia needs good psychologists. Let me see if I can entice you. You see, I come, yet again, with a favor to ask of you. It has nothing to do with recruiting subjects, but I’m convinced you’re the only one who can help me.”
    “The only one,” Lydia said, teasing.
    “I have a student. A postdoc, actually. Zach Edwards. Twenty-six years old. Finished his PhD last year at the University of Oregon. Smart as a whip. He’s been with me less than two months and already I find myself counting on him more than I probably should. Zach’s going to be a crackerjack researcher.”
    “He’s lucky to have you. Most postdocs are viewed as peon labor. They do all the work and the professor gets all the glory.”
    Sharon winked. “Let’s hope that changes as more women climb those slippery ranks of science. At any rate, he needs clinical hours. He needs his license. Zach will be looking for a faculty position of his own in two or three years. He’ll be more attractive to schools if he can bring patient skills.”
    “So he needs a supervisor. And you thought of me.”
    Sharon nodded. “I’m giving him top-notch research training. It would be a terrific complement if he got his clinical supervision from the best as well.”
    Lydia sidestepped the flattery. “Twenty-six, Sharon? And already with his PhD? That means—what did you say his name is?”
    “Zach. Zach Edwards.”
    “Zach’s been in school straight through from