I shrug and answer, “Whether to accept this life Dmitri’s given me or try to find out who I was.”
“And if finding out who you were meant losing what you have now?”
“Then I’d need to decide which version of myself is more authentic. The version that’s based on truth instead of carefully constructed fiction.”
Anya glances at her watch. “These are complex philosophical questions, Katya. Perhaps we should focus on more immediate concerns.”
“Such as?”
“Your relationship with your husband. Your adjustment to current circumstances. Practical aspects of your daily life that you can control.”
“What if I don’t want to adjust to circumstances that might be built on lies?”
“Then you’d need to consider the consequences of pursuing truth versus accepting stability.”
“What kind of consequences?” I ask, cocking my head.
She looks into my eyes and replies, “Discovering information that’s more painful than ignorance. Finding out that some questions don’t have answers you want to hear.”
The warning is subtle but clear. Stop digging or face consequences.
“Dr. Sokolova, hypothetically speaking, if someone recovered memories that contradicted everything they’d been told about their identity, what would you recommend?”
“Careful evaluation of those memories before taking any action based on them. A professional evaluation would be essential to distinguish between genuine recollections and trauma-induced fantasies.”
“Who would conduct that kind of professional evaluation?”
“Specialists in memory recovery, psychological assessment, and debriefing.” Anya shifts in her chair, crossing her legs in the opposite direction.
“What if someone didn’t trust the specialists who were supposed to help them?”
“Then they’d need to find professionals they felt comfortable working with.” She smooths her skirt with both hands, a gesture that looks more nervous than necessary.
“And if those professionals had agendas?”
“That’s why it’s important to have multiple perspectives and independent verification.” Anya’s fingers drum once against her notebook before she catches herself and stops.
“From people outside the situation?”
“From people qualified to provide objective assessment without conflicts of interest.” She uncrosses her legs and leans back, creating more distance between us.
“Do such people exist in complex situations involving security concerns?”
“Every situation has stakeholders with different priorities. The challenge is finding advisors whose primary concern is the individual’s well-being rather than other objectives.”
“What if the individual’s well-being conflicts with those other objectives?”
Anya closes her notebook and sets it aside. “Katya, these hypothetical scenarios seem to be creating anxiety rather than helping your recovery. Perhaps we should schedule more frequent sessions to work through these concerns.”
“Actually, I think I need some time to process things on my own. Maybe we could space out our sessions for a while.”
Anya’s pen stops moving midsentence. “Are you sure? Consistency is important during recovery periods, especially when new information is surfacing.”
“I’m sure. I need to figure some things out independently before continuing therapy.” I sit back in my chair and cross my arms.
“What kind of things?” She closes her notebook but keeps it balanced on her lap, ready to reopen.
“Whether I trust the version of myself I’m becoming or if I need to find the version I used to be.”
