No...
No, that's not true.
Victoria gazed at the middle-aged man in front of her.
Hank Clegg didn't hurt my family, he's not what you say he is. I won't hurt him either, I won't...
However, she found herself locked in a pitch-black room, only able to observe the world outside from a small window barred with iron.
Her consciousness was locked away, only able to watch helplessly as her behavior was manipulated by the "false personality" bestowed upon her by the psychotherapist.
Hank Clegg... flee, run away from me, do not come near me, do not speak to me...
I am under hypnosis, I am being manipulated, I could hurt you.
Victoria struggled to shout out.
But her voice couldn't reach her throat.
No, I can't aim a gun at him, I can't.
She told herself, Victoria Talkington, put down the gun in your hand, put it down, don't shoot Hank Clegg.
She tried so hard to control herself, striving to break free from the shackles imposed by the psychotherapist.
