Chapter 34: The Key To Everything

Cami didn't know what to think as she hurriedly left the police station. Klaus Mikaelson had gone from sexy stranger to insensitive douchebag to shadowy man in her past to sinister underworld figure in twenty-four hours. Was he as dangerous as the detective had implied?

The man she met last night had been gentle and chivalrous with her, at least until he got cold feet. She didn't trust him, but something in her gut said his departure hadn't been prompted by any moral scruples, or a desire to hurt her. He had wanted something she couldn't give him—he wanted her to remember whatever it was they'd had together.

She had been given another intriguing piece of the puzzle as well: it was his brother who had persuaded the police that she was not involved in her landlord's murder. Were the Mikaelsons actually trying to protect her? Or was there some larger plan she was a part of? Had she been caught up in something so traumatic she wanted to—or had to—forget it?

Her next stop was her old apartment building. She knew it was unlikely she would find the answers she was looking for there, but nevertheless, she found herself knocking on doors, including that of her own place, to find anyone who might tell her something about the murder and whether Klaus had been in the building that night. Either nobody was home, or they weren't answering their doors. So much for holiday spirit.

Eventually she gave up and went back out onto the street. Cami found herself wandering in the direction of the cemetery where her brother and uncle had been laid to rest, so she spent the next hour or so at their tombs paying her respects and desperately failing not to overthink her situation. Weary and dispirited, she headed back to her hotel to decide what to do next.

Back in her room, she collapsed onto the bed and eased off her boots. Before she could even think about the next step, her phone rang.

She answered the call more cheerfully than she actually felt. "Hey, Georgia."

"Don't hey me," said an annoyed voice on the other end. "I've left at least six messages that you haven't responded to."

"I'm sorry. I've been preoccupied the last couple days."

"With something juicy, I hope. Like a man?"

Little did she know. "No such luck. I'm in New Orleans."

"Oooh, nice. An O'Connell family reunion in the old home town, by any chance?"

"I don't think I have many relatives left," Cami said. "Anyway, it's nothing like that. I'm here alone."

"That sounds depressing. What are you doing alone in New Orleans right before Christmas?"

"Oh, just…you know…catching up with…friends."

There was an inarticulate noise on the other end, followed by, "Cami, you didn't go there hoping to see Mark, did you?"

"No, I don't even…" Cami let out a sarcastic laugh. "Believe me, I know better than to chase ghosts."

There was a long pause. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing." Cami let out a long, tortured breath. "It's just…sometimes I feel as if everything I thought I knew is a lie. My life is a lie."

She hadn't meant to say anything, and she could feel tears stinging at the back of her eyes. God, she had to hold it together.

"This doesn't sound like you," Georgia replied. "You're scaring me, Cami. What's going on?"

"I honestly don't know, Georgia," Cami said, taking deep breaths to stop herself from bursting into tears. "I just feel so alone. I'm so afraid that I…I might be falling apart."

Her breath stuttered on the last syllable, and that was it. Cami broke down, making loud sobbing noises into the phone while tears streamed down her face.

So much for holding it together.

She could hear Georgia trying to calm her. "It's all right. Take deep breaths, babe. Come on. It's okay. We'll get through this together."

Eventually, she was able to speak in between snuffles. "I'm gonna…look…for a Kleenex," she announced, knowing Georgia would understand she needed to compose herself. She put down her phone, went into the bathroom and pulled a bunch of tissues out of the box sitting on the counter. She blew her nose thoroughly and splashed her face repeatedly with water. The mirror revealed she looked all puffy and blotchy, but at least she could make articulate sounds—or she hoped she could. There was no way Georgia was not going to demand all the details seeing that she'd had to listen to Cami blubbering nonstop for ten minutes.

Cami returned to the bed and picked up her phone. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry," Georgia said. "I'm here for you if you want to talk. You know me; I can handle anything."

Cami considered her friend's offer. Did she want to reveal her terrible secret? Did she want to admit that she was either going mad or the victim of something she didn't understand? Right now, she felt so lonely and frightened that she really needed to tell somebody.

"I love you," she said. "And yeah, I think I do want to talk."

So she told Georgia everything she had previously held back—about her lack of emotion, the selective amnesia, the events she had been caught up in, the fact that she believed she had been in a relationship that apparently never existed.

Georgia didn't say anything for a long time. Then Cami heard her exhale heavily. "I'm so glad you know about Mark!"

It took Cami a few seconds to process what Georgia had just said. "Wait a minute. You knew about Mark?"

"Girl, I googled him the first time you mentioned his name. I wanted to see what this god among men was like. He sounded so perfect I got suspicious. So I looked him up on Facebook. The only things on his timeline were adorable pictures of his gorgeous wife and cute kids. Eight solid years' worth of adorable pictures. Then I found his LinkedIn profile. He's been working in Seattle for at least twelve years. There was no way he could've been living a double life with all the writing and the lecture tours and the clinical trials he's been doing. I knew it was the same Mark Steadman, because you showed me his book once. You were so proud you had been dating a renowned clinical psychologist."

Cami couldn't speak for a long time. "But…you didn't say anything. I was being delusional! Didn't you think I was nuts?"

"First of all, you know I would never use that term. Secondly, I thought it might be wishful thinking caused by a professional crush, or you lied because you were trying to impress me. I didn't have the heart to tell you I was onto you. Besides, it didn't hurt anybody, you bragging about your famous boyfriend. But now that you've told me about the emotional detachment and memory loss that's also occurring, I think you need to see a doctor right away. Seriously, you need to find out what's going on and get it treated. I'm sure I don't have to tell you it could be something potentially serious, Cami, like schizophrenia or Dissociative Identity Disorder."

"No, you don't need to tell me. My mind has gone through a billion possibilities. Mental illness, neurological disease, even a silent stroke. But then I figured it had to be something with a genetic component, because I thought what happened to Sean might be happening to me. But I haven't had a psychotic break. I haven't forgotten everything in my life from before three years ago. I remember living here, going to work. It's like certain memories have been erased and replaced with false ones."

"What are you thinking? That you've been brainwashed or something? You think somebody hypnotized you into forgetting your hot mystery man?"

"I know it sounds stupid. But maybe I'm suffering from post-traumatic amnesia. Maybe my brain has shut out the memories as a coping mechanism and filled in the gaps with things I'm familiar with. I just need to find out what happened to me three years ago." An idea ticked over in Cami's brain. "Georgia, I want you to promise me something. If you don't hear from me in the next twenty-four hours, call the New Orleans police and tell them my last known whereabouts were the Abattoir. They'll know where that is. Tell them I went to see Klaus Mikaelson. Got the name?"

"Fuck, Cami, no. Whatever you're thinking, don't do it. Do not do it, do you understand me?"

"I'll be okay. Just remember: the Abattoir, Klaus Mikaelson."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. The Abattoir, Klaus Mikaelson," Georgia repeated. "But please don't do anything stupid. This is way too dangerous."

"I know this will sound foolish, but I don't think he wants to hurt me. He could have done that last night."

"Babe, even if this guy is not involved in making people disappear, knowing the truth about what happened might not necessarily be a good thing. And even if it's not as serious as you think, being confronted with the truth could trigger you in some way. Just forget about it and come home."

"I will. I'll call you within twenty-four hours. I love you. See you soon."

Cami ended the call.

Georgia was right, of course. This was probably the stupidest and most dangerous thing she had ever done. But it was the only way she could think of to put her out of her misery one way or another, to end this torture of not knowing whether she was losing her mind. The Mikaelsons were the key to everything.

She just knew it.