TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter mentions sensitive subjects such as rape, emotional manipulation, drugging of non-consenting individuals, infant death, cults, and so on. If you feel that you cannot handle these subjects, do not read past this note.

Willow stood before Dr. Lainey Winters' office door, just staring at the black, blocky letters printed on the window. Once again she felt that fear, that uncertainty, of going into someone's office and having that someone get into her head. The only difference was that this time, it was her choice to make the appointment and to attend it. The first therapist was the hospital's orders. Dr. Collins was to make Chase happy. But Dr. Winters…

Dr. Winters was entirely her choice.

That thought made her take a deep breath before slowly releasing it. Steeling her resolve, the brunette opened the door. "Dr. Winters?" She called out.

An African American woman looked up from her desk. She had shoulder-length black hair and her eyes reminded her of the fresh coffee beans you'd scoop out to place into a grinder. She wore a black women's suit with a white collar. There was a small notepad sitting before her, ready for their session.

She smiled, standing up from her desk. "You must be Willow Tait," she stated.

Willow nodded.

"Come in, Ms. Tait."

Willow closed the door behind her and sat in the chair across from Dr. Winters, settling into it as the older woman reclaimed her own seat.

"Okay," Dr. Winters began. "Let's start with the standard question: why have you decided to come see me?"

"Well, Dr. Winters—"

"Please, call me Lainey."

"Lainey. I came to see you because Dr. Collins referred me to you when I had my appointment with him."

"And why did he refer you to me?"

"He thought that I would be more open with a female therapist."

"Why is that?"

"Because I was nervous around him and the therapist that my doctor made me see before I left the hospital."

"Willow, why did the doctor make you see a therapist?"

Willow paused. For a minute her tongue felt heavy, her mouth dry. A lump grew in her throat as pain laced her chest. She could still see him, her little baby, so small and so beautiful. She could still feel the weight of him in her arms, against her breast, as she held him for the first and only time after his birth.

"I…" she swallowed past the lump, her eyes stinging. "I saw him after…after I was told that my baby had died."

Lainey gave her a sympathetic look, but didn't interrupt.

"I, um, I had a baby boy almost two years ago, but I couldn't keep him. I gave him up for adoption to two loving fathers. I thought that everything would be fine, that he would grow up to have a normal and happy life, but what I didn't know was that after one of his adoptive fathers brought him home and got him settled down, he stopped breathing. My baby was alive and then…and then he wasn't," tears dripped from Willow's eyes before she could stop them, wet tracks trailing down her pale face.

Lainey pulled out a box of tissues from her desk and wordlessly slid them over to her.

"Thank you," Willow said thickly, dabbing her face dry before blowing her nose.

"Your hospitalization and therapy was within the last few weeks," Lainey spoke gently, trying not to upset the young woman any more than she already was. "When did you discover that your child had passed?"

This was the point in which she shut down with her first therapist and then with Dr. Collins, where she refused to answer anything else. With Lainey Winters…she found that she didn't want to. In fact, she wanted to continue her story.

"That's the most disturbing part," Willow claimed, balling up the used tissue and throwing it into the trash bin that was located near Lainey's desk. "I didn't even find out that my son was dead until recently. The adoptive father who found him in his crib started to take him to the hospital after infant CPR didn't work. On the way there, he ran into another woman who had just given birth to her own son. This woman is a textbook sociopath and she wanted to punish my friend, the father of her son, for figuring out her lies and not wanting her to get away with them, so she switched the babies. She came to the hospital with my son, claiming that it was hers who died from all the stress my friend put her under, and my friend's son was with my son's adoptive fathers, masquerading under the name they chose for him. My boyfriend—he's a detective—found out the truth at the same time my friend, his family, and the other adoptive father and he went to the hospital to tell me. I got a concussion fighting the biological mother to save who I thought was my baby, and when I woke up…he told me. I thought it was some horrible nightmare, that somehow he was making a mistake, but everything made so much sense: how obsessed the biological mother was with a child who wasn't supposed to be hers, how the adoptive father who was in on the switch never felt comfortable around me, especially when I was near the baby…it was all too logical to be coincidental." Willow had to grab another tissue to wipe away the new wave of tears that came with reliving one of the worst moments of her life—if not, the very worst.

Lainey stared at the young woman with sympathy. "I can't imagine how awful that's been for you," she said softly.

Willow gave a quick, watery laugh, but it was entirely without humor. "Yeah, it's been hell," she replied. "All I can think about is my son and how I couldn't recognize the baby I thought was mine really wasn't. I felt like such a horrible mother."

There were a few moments of silence before Lainey broke it, "You said earlier that you couldn't keep your son. Why is that?"

That familiar lump settled into Willow's throat again, flashbacks of Shiloh and Dawn of Day assaulting her mind. For a minute she felt stifled, like she couldn't speak or even breathe, but once again willed herself to push past that barrier. "My childhood wasn't…stable," she began, looking up at Lainey.

"Go on."

"My mother always felt unfulfilled in some way. I don't know how…she was a wife and mother who had a family that loved her. She was always looking for the next group that could give her the spirituality that she desired," Willow's bitter, mocking tone made Lainey raise her brows, but she stayed silent, allowing the brunette to continue.

"We never stayed in one place for very long. It could be a week or a month or even a year, if Mom really liked the group. My dad and I got tired of moving all the time, especially when it disrupted his job at the time or my schooling. I would need more than two hands and feet to tell you just how many times I had to restart the same grade or say goodbye to the few friends I made. Eventually, I just chose to be a loner and not pay attention in class because I knew that we weren't going to be in the area for long. I'm sure you can guess how isolated that made me feel," Willow looked up from the used tissue she still held in her hand, her eyes locking with Lainey's.

"Did you or your father ever speak to her about how you felt?" Lainey asked.

Willow nodded. "We did…several times, actually, but it always fell on deaf ears with her. We wanted stability, a place we could call our own, but she never listened. I don't think she really cared. Dad still loved her, though, and I was still a child. He didn't want to leave her or leave me with her, so we had no choice but to stay and let her do what she wanted."

"Did you ever feel safe with your mother?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes she was a stranger."

"Can you tell me what was the worst situation she put you in?"

Lainey's office fell into silence for just a few moments before Willow spoke: "My parents and I joined Dawn of Day in 2014. I was 21 and still incredibly sheltered because of all the different groups Mom made us join. At first they seemed nice, if a bit strange. Mom was the happiest with this group and we actually settled down as if it was our own. For a while I thought that everything was finally going to be okay, that we would be a family with all of these supportive, friendly people, but I was so, so wrong.

"What I didn't realize until it was too late was that Dawn of Day was actually a sick cult masquerading as a healing group for those who feel lost. Everyone was so nice because that's what manipulated people into thinking that they were safe, that they finally had people who understood them. They brainwashed people into believing in their cause when they only wanted to take things from them. They caused people to become distant with those who loved them, convinced them that their family and friends were trying to impede their spiritual progress and make them stay in the dark. Anyone who came into contact with them were molded into these mindless little minions who were totally compliant with their leader."

"Is that what happened with your mother?" Lainey asked softly.

Willow bit her lip, tears falling from her eyes as those painful memories resurfaced. "Yes," she whispered. "Before we joined Dawn of Day, her name was Lorraine Miller. Afterwards, Lorraine disappeared and Harmony took her place."

Lainey leaned forward in her seat, folding her hands atop the desk. "When you say that Lorraine disappeared and Harmony took her place, what exactly do you mean?" She had a feeling what Willow was trying to say, but her job was to help this young woman open up and release the pain she's carried. Asking her what lawyers would call "leading questions" was part of the process.

"She became absorbed in Dawn of Day," Willow explained. "She spent less of her time with Dad and I and more with the other cult members. She was obsessed with their leader and started having an affair. She wasn't my mother or my father's wife. Instead, she became this terrible person who openly cheated on her husband and ignored her daughter. Well…at least until she wanted something from me."

Lainey frowned. At least until she wanted something from me. That sentence put her on edge. Carefully, she sent another inquiry towards Willow: "What did she want from you?"

This time the silence was longer, tenser. Willow felt more tears slide down her cheeks. "She wanted me to be part of what their leader called his Trust," the raw pain in her eyes made Lainey's heart pang for the girl.

"Trust?" Lainey echoed.

Willow nodded, sniffling as she took more tissues out of the box before her. "It's this inner circle of their leader's—Shiloh was his name. Whenever a member got inducted into this Trust, it was thought to be the highest honor and a whole ceremony would take place. It was supposed to make you feel special that Shiloh valued you enough to be part of his Trust, but it was a lie just like everything else.

"The first thing that Shiloh has you do is record your deepest, darkest secret so he can keep it. He claims that it's so that bond of trust can be established on both sides, but in reality it's just a way for him to have leverage on you if you decide to leave the cult. It's his way to ensure that all of his sick little secrets are safe because he has yours.

"Then he has one of the older Trust members take you into another room and give you this special tea. He tells you it's so your mind can be at rest in order to have a full experience, but…" Willow trailed off as her throat closed from fresh tears.

Lainey waited until Willow could continue before she prompted in that same soft tone, "What is the tea really for, Willow?"

Voice shaking and the tears coming faster, Willow answered, "It's so you can't fight him when he brands and then rapes you." With that, she leaned forward, covering her face with her hands as she sobs into them, the memories of feeling that dizzy blackness, the needle carving into her skin, Shiloh on and inside of her taking a stranglehold on her. For a minute she couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. All she could feel was that same helplessness as Shiloh did what he wanted to her body and the realization that her mother didn't protect her.

Lainey watched Willow break down, her own heart hurting for her. This poor woman had been through so much already in her short life, and so much of it was caused by her own mother.

Ten minutes passed before Willow could calm down enough to speak coherently. When she did, she whispered, "Three years later, when I was 24, shortly after discovering that my father had been killed because he wanted to leave with me, I found out I was pregnant after he raped me again. I knew that I couldn't raise a child with him or with anyone in that cult, so I escaped, changed my name from Kali Miller to Willow Tait, and then I spent my entire pregnancy preparing to give my son up for adoption. I made it a closed adoption so that, if Shiloh ever found out about my pregnancy, the documents would be sealed from him. Even if he used his connections to find them, it wouldn't be easy for him. I wanted to keep my son, I really did, but his father was a monster, his grandmother never protected me and wouldn't have protected him against Shiloh's influence, and everyone else were just mindless sheep. That place was poison and my son was just an innocent baby; I couldn't let Shiloh get his hands on him and make him the same as him, maybe even worse. I thought that I was protecting him."

"You were protecting him, Willow. You thought of your son's welfare and happiness and found the strength to leave a place that took so much from you. I can't imagine how horrible that was for you, but you got out. You left and kept your son safe," Lainey told her.

Willow shook her head. "I didn't keep him safe," she protested. "He died."

"That had nothing to do with your capabilities as a mother," Lainey said firmly. "Your son died from SIDS. It can affect any child of any parentage in any circumstance. There was nothing that could have been done and you couldn't have saved him."

It may sound harsh from an outside perspective, but it was the truth. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome was a terrible occurrence that had no true prevention. Willow was not responsible for what happened to her son any more than she was for being victimized in this Dawn of Day cult.

"My brain knows that," Willow said. "But my heart doesn't."

"Willow, have you ever heard of exposure therapy?"

The seemingly random question caught Willow by surprise. "No," she answered, staring curiously at Lainey. "What is it?"

Lainey adjusted in her seat, crossing her legs at the knee. "Exposure therapy is where you introduce the patient to the stimulus that causes them anxiety, but it's done in ways so that the patient doesn't feel like they're in danger. For example…say that you're afraid of a dog because of a bad past experience, but you want to move past that because you either want to have a dog of your own or you care about someone who has a dog and you don't want that fact to keep you from having a relationship with them. Therapists would start you off by looking at pictures, then videos, and then, when you've made significant progress, actually meeting the dog in person. Now, not every patient reacts well to being exposed to the stimulus; some have been known to regress to that same anxious place they were previously in, but many find that slowly confronting their fears in ways that make them comfortable have allowed them to overcome them. Patients often have this therapy so they can retake some form of control over their lives."

Willow contemplated that. A form of therapy that would help her overcome her fears by exposing her to them?

"I don't know how to feel about that," she murmured.

"Willow, I think your greatest fear is Shiloh," Lainey said.

"You're right."

"Your greatest fear is Shiloh, but you also fear your mother and your son."

Willow frowned. "My son?" She echoed.

Lainey nodded. "You feel that you failed as a mother, so you're reluctant to open yourself emotionally again to a child you thought had been your son for the better part of two years. I'm also inferring that you haven't visited your son in a while?"

Willow felt ashamed of herself, though it wasn't Lainey's intention, as she admitted, "Not for a few weeks, no."

Once again, Lainey nodded, her expression full of sympathy and understanding. "You need to visit him, Willow. Grief is a process and fear is definitely part of that. I think you may find it beneficial for you to visit your son at his grave and just stay there for awhile. You don't have to talk or do anything, just sit there. You never got the chance to bond with him the way you wanted, and that lost opportunity has made you afraid, not only of his memory but also of any future interaction with children, and I would also be correct in saying that you don't want to let fear stop you from being around children, wouldn't I?"

Willow nodded, thinking of her old teaching job. Even though she was working in the nursing program at GH at the moment, teaching was where her heart was. She loved children, but she couldn't bear the thought of being near them right now, no matter the age.

"Start with that first step, and then we can discuss the second step in your next appointment. Alright?"

"Alright."

Moments later, Willow left Lainey's office with an appointment slip, set for the following week at the same time.

As she headed towards the elevator to exit the hospital, she found that a weight had been lifted off of her chest. Talking to Lainey actually made her feel something other than that crushing grief or aching numbness since the baby switch reveal. She didn't think she could ever truly be fixed, but this session with her did make her feel like she could cope.

Soon, Willow found herself at the cemetery. Getting out of her car, she began heading for her son's grave when a familiar voice broke the silence:

"Hello, my sweet grandson."

Willow slowly approached her son's headstone, freezing in her spot when she recognized the woman kneeling on the ground, unaware of the younger woman's presence.

It was Harmony. Her mother.