Chapter 87 Soon, Yasmin
Chapter 87 Soon, Yasmin
♤BEAUTY♤
The Doctor's brow furrows, her expression instantly turning suspicious.
“Then you are in the wrong place, young lady. I do not treat mentally unstable or psychotic patients. This place is a certified clinical hypnotherapy center. We practice cognitive rehabilitation, trauma containment, and past-life regression for patients recovering from neurological blocks.”
“I don’t give a crap about your medical BS,” I snap, my patience finally running out.
“You are performing experimental mind games here, and I can sue you for illegal practices if I feel like it.”
“Our facility is licensed and fully registered. We have nothing to hide,” Dr. Petra counters, her voice rising with a flash of anger as she points to the framed certificates lining her wall.
“I hold a Doctorate in Clinical Psychology from Northwestern University, and I am fully licensed by the American Society of Clinical Hypnosis. My methods are strictly regulated and legal.”
“Whatever,” I wave my hand dismissively, rolling my eyes at her credentials.
“You are going to tell me exactly what my sister came here to do today, or you are going to have yourself to blame when the compliance board shuts your doors tomorrow morning.”
Dr. Petra sighs, sitting back down in her chair and pulling a large logbook toward her.
“And who exactly is this sister of yours? Let’s start from there.”
“Her name is Yasmin,” I say, leaning forward, my eyes locking onto her face like a hawk watching its target.
“She came here earlier today. Why was she here? I want to know. I need detailed information about her entire session.”
Dr. Petra flips through the pages of the logbook, her fingers moving across the ink before she closes the cover with a soft thud.
She looks up at me, her face devoid of any expression.
“No one with that name has checked into this clinic today, young woman. I’m afraid there has been a mistake on your part.”
“A mistake?!” I roar, standing up from the chair, my hands slamming hard onto her desk.
“Are you trying to imply that I’m blind or perhaps stupid? Because of how reckless and unstable she is, I have men watching and monitoring her every move. So if I say she was here, that is exactly the truth.”
Leonardo steps up beside my chair, his arms crossed, a dangerous warning radiating from him.
Dr. Petra remains silent, her molars grinding against each other as she tries to control her anger. And that infuriates me even more.
I hate people like this.
I hate people who always act like nothing gets to them, always calm and trying to keep the peace.
It’s such so irritating I nearly puked.
“You don’t want to mess with my lady, old woman.”
Leo steps even closer his tall frame towering above the doctor.
“I don’t want this to end with me disrespecting you,” he continues, “ I respect Indian culture a lot and I wouldn’t like to disrespect you. So speak. Now.”
Dr. Petra chuckles at his words for a few seconds before shaking her head blatantly.
“I’m serious. I seriously didn’t have any client with that name. Maybe perhaps she has another name?”
My brain clicks at once.
That’s right. What if we’re asking the wrong questions?
What if that little bitch registered with a pseudonym or something?
Yasmin… oh, Yasmin.
You can never be smarter than me, I'll always be ahead of you.
You met me in this game.
I pull my phone out of my purse, then pull up a recent photo of Yasmin, the one I took with her at the lounge, and shove the screen straight into the doctor’s face.
“Look at the screen,” I command. “Look at her face.”
The second Dr. Petra’s eyes land on Yasmin’s picture, a little shift happens in her features. Her pupils dilate and her eyes widen for a second before her blank expression slams back into place.
It is an automatic tell, and it’s very obvious she recognizes her.
“I don’t know this person,” she blurted looking back up at me.
”Even if I did, I would never tell you a single word about her, no matter what. We practice strict doctor-patient confidentiality under federal law. If you do not leave my office this instant, I will have security remove you.”
An impressed laugh leaves my lips.
I pull my phone back, sliding it into my purse as I look down at her with pure contempt.
“Okay, Doc. As you wish,” I whisper, though it doesn’t sound nice at all.
“Since you want to protect her so badly, don’t blame me for whatever happens to your precious little career next. Let’s go, Leonardo.”
I turn on my heel and storm out of the office, not even looking back as Leonardo slams the door behind us.
We march out of the clinic, and I slide into the car parked right outside.
Leonardo instantly pulls into traffic.
I didn’t get the information I wanted. That Indian woman is as stubborn as a mule.
But as I settle deep into the seat, a realization strikes me.
Dr. Petra’s panic confirmed everything I needed to know.
Yasmin was definitely there.
And if a girl with a blank past is secretly sneaking into a clinical hypnotherapy center under a fake name, it can only mean one of two things:
She is either trying to remember something very dear to her or.... she is suffering from memory loss.
Amnesia.
A triumphant smile brightens my gloomy expression for the first time since morning.
I’m not sure which one it is exactly, but either way, that information is more than enough for me to stir up some trouble.
My smile widens into a satisfied grin as I look out the tinted window, whispering into the quiet car.
“Bientôt, petite Yasmin… bientôt (Soon, little Yasmin… soon).”