Chapter Ninety One

Chapter 91  

The room was deathly silent after Jemma's words. Dr. Kaine froze, her pen hovering over her clipboard as if the weight of what she'd just heard had shattered her ability to move. Jemima's body stood tense, her shoulders squared, but the eyes glaring back at Kaine were unmistakably Jemma's—cold, unyielding, and filled with years of bottled rage.  

Dr. Kaine took a deep breath, steadying herself. She knew she couldn't let her shock show, couldn't let Jemma retreat back into the depths of Jemima's mind without delving deeper.  

"Thank you for telling me," Kaine said softly, her voice a careful balance of empathy and professionalism. "That must have been incredibly difficult to say."  

Jemma's lips curled into a bitter smile, though her eyes glistened with something almost imperceptible—pain, perhaps, or the beginnings of release. "You think that was hard? Try living with it. Try carrying the memory every second of every day while she"—she gestured to herself—"pretends it never happened."  

Kaine tilted her head, observing Jemma carefully. "You feel like Jemima ignored what happened to you. Like she abandoned you to deal with it alone."  

Jemma scoffed, crossing her arms. "She didn't ignore it. She erased it. Buried it so deep, she didn't even leave room for me. But I'm still here, Dr. Kaine. I'm the one who remembers. I'm the one who had to pick up the pieces."  

Kaine leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle but firm. "And now you're here, trying to make her see. Trying to make her face what happened."  

Jemma's jaw tightened. "I'm not trying to make her see. I'm trying to make her feel it. She doesn't get to pretend it didn't happen. Not anymore."  

Kaine nodded, her pen finally moving across the page as she processed Jemma's words. "You're angry because you've been carrying this burden alone. You've been protecting Jemima, but no one's been there to protect you."  

For the first time, Jemma faltered. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her arms uncrossing as her shoulders slumped. "No one ever does," she whispered.  

The vulnerability in her voice caught Kaine off guard, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she pressed on, her tone softening. "You're right. No one's protected you, Jemma. And that's not fair. But I want to help you now. Both of you."  

Jemma's eyes snapped back to Kaine, sharp and distrustful. "Help me? Or help her?"  

"Both," Kaine replied without hesitation. "Because you're not as separate as you think. You and Jemima—you're two sides of the same coin. You're both hurting, and the only way to heal is together."  

Jemma's lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable. She took a step back, as if retreating into herself, and Kaine braced herself for the possibility that Jemma might vanish, leaving Jemima behind.  

But instead, Jemma spoke, her voice low and filled with something raw. "You want to help? Then stop pretending like this is going to fix anything. You can't change what happened. You can't undo the damage."  

"No, I can't," Kaine admitted. "But I can help you find a way to live with it. To stop letting it control you."  

Jemma's laugh was harsh and hollow. "You think I'm the one in control? That's cute."  

Before Kaine could respond, Jemma's body convulsed, a guttural cry escaping her lips. She doubled over, clutching her head as if trying to keep herself from splitting apart.  

"Jemima?" Kaine called, standing but keeping her distance. "Or is it Jemma? Talk to me—what's happening?"  

Jemma didn't answer. Her breathing was ragged, her nails digging into her scalp as she rocked back and forth. Kaine reached for the emergency button on the wall but stopped short, unsure if intervention would help or worsen the situation.  

"I can't—" Jemma's voice broke, the sharp edge gone, replaced by something softer, weaker. "I can't hold on anymore."  

"Hold on to what?" Kaine pressed gently, inching closer.  

"Everything," Jemma whispered. "The pain, the anger... it's too much. It's eating me alive."  

Kaine crouched down, keeping her movements slow and deliberate. "You don't have to hold on alone anymore. Let me help you carry it."  

Jemma looked up, and for a brief moment, Kaine saw something flicker in her eyes—a desperate, childlike need for comfort. But then it was gone, replaced by a steely resolve.  

"You can't help me," Jemma said, her voice flat. "No one can."  

Before Kaine could respond, Jemma's body went rigid, and her eyes rolled back. She collapsed to the floor, unconscious.  

Kaine immediately pressed the emergency button, her heart pounding as nurses rushed into the room. They lifted Jemima onto the bed, checking her vitals as Kaine stood back, her mind racing.  

What had just happened? And what would happen next?  

Back at the Valerian household, the tension was palpable. Marcus paced the length of the living room, his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep himself together. Ava sat on the couch, her face pale and drawn, while Jay leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as he stared into the distance.  

"This is torture," Marcus muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We should be there with her. She shouldn't be alone."  

"She's not alone," Jay said quietly. "Dr. Kaine is with her."  

Marcus turned on him, his eyes blazing. "And what good is that? Some stranger poking around in her head, trying to fix things she doesn't understand."  

"Marcus, stop," Ava said, her voice trembling. "This isn't helping."  

"What would help, Ava?" Marcus snapped. "Because sitting here doing nothing sure as hell isn't."  

Ava's eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. "Do you think this is easy for me? For any of us? She's my sister too, Marcus. I want to be there as much as you do, but we have to trust that this is what she needs."  

Marcus shook his head, his jaw tightening. "I can't just sit here and wait. I need to do something."  

Jay finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "The best thing you can do for Jemima right now is be ready for when she comes home. She's going to need us, Marcus—all of us. And she's going to need us strong."  

Marcus glared at him for a moment before finally sinking into a chair, his head in his hands. "I just... I don't know how to help her," he admitted, his voice breaking.  

Jay walked over and placed a hand on Marcus's shoulder. "We'll figure it out. Together."  

“Yes Marcus we would. While we are focused on Jemima, there has been a certain development with the Ross’s,” Dimitri announced, staring into his laptop and not even looking up. 

Everyone’s attention got piqued and they rushed towards him to see what he was talking about. 
Their eyes widened with shock at what they saw. 

Back at the psyche ward, Jemima woke to the sound of muffled voices. Her head felt heavy, her body weak, but she could tell she was no longer alone. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the harsh fluorescent light.  

Dr. Kaine stood at the foot of her bed, speaking quietly to a nurse. When she noticed Jemima stirring, she dismissed the nurse and approached.  

"Welcome back," Kaine said, her tone gentle. "How are you feeling?"  

Jemima frowned, trying to piece together what had happened. "I... I don't know. I feel... empty."  

Kaine nodded, pulling up a chair. "That's understandable. You've been through a lot today."  

Jemima's brow furrowed. "Today? How long have I been out?"  

"Only a few hours," Kaine reassured her. "But it was enough to give your body a chance to rest."  

Jemima closed her eyes, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. "What happened? I remember talking to you, and then... nothing."  

Kaine hesitated before answering. "Jemma came forward. We talked for a while, but then something changed. She seemed... overwhelmed."  

Jemima's eyes snapped open, fear flashing across her face. "Did she hurt anyone?"  

"No," Kaine said quickly. "She didn't hurt anyone. But she did say something before she passed out."  

Jemima swallowed hard, her heart pounding. "What did she say?"  

Kaine hesitated, her gaze steady. "She told me what happened to you. What your father did."  

The words hit Jemima like a punch to the gut. She felt the air leave her lungs, her chest tightening as memories she'd long buried threatened to surface.  

"I... I don't want to talk about it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  

"I understand," Kaine said gently. "And we don't have to. Not until you're ready. But I need you to know that you're safe here, Jemima. No one can hurt you anymore."  

Jemima nodded, though her body remained tense. She wasn't sure she believed Kaine's words, but for now, she was too tired to argue.  

As Kaine stood to leave, Jemima's voice stopped her.  

"Do you think I can ever be normal again?" she asked, her voice trembling.  

Kaine turned back, her expression soft. "Normal is overrated," she said with a small smile. "But I do think you can heal. And I'll be here every step of the way."  

“How?”

“Jemma.”

Jemima nodded again, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She didn't know what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, she felt a glimmer of hope.  

And in the depths of her mind, Jemma stirred, her presence quiet but unmistakable. The battle was far from over, but for now, there was a fragile truce.