“Well,
Lenie,” he starts, leaning back in his chair once more. That disarming smile is
back in place. All the tension weighing the air is whisked away in a blink. “I
know you get nervous talking about Adam and Grayson, and I can understand that.
But I want to assure you I’m only here to help. What you’re going through is
nothing to be ashamed of. Your body and mind sustained a major trauma, one most
people will never experience. If you were perfectly functional then I would be concerned.”
His
words are meant to reassure me. I’m sure he means them. Still, that voice
inside urges me to be quiet.
“I
hope you know you can trust me.” Those jolly brown eyes are so solemn and
serious. He looks almost hurt.
Here is where you give him a little bit more,
Adam says. We want him to believe he’s getting
through to you.
I
feel horrible for being so deceptive. Dr. Duck really is only trying to help. I
hate seeing him look so disheartened.
You don’t need help, Lenie. At least, not
from him. Grayson’s words are clipped, sounding impatient. Give him what he wants, but not too much.
And don’t make it obvious.
You are not hurting him by being deceptive,
Lenie. This is what’s best for you. Adam’s certainty lulls me. I want so
much to believe he’s right.
Okay, okay. Now shut up, both of you.
I look out the window, studying
the skeletal trees outside his office. Then I look down at my lap. “Okay. There
were a few other times. I just…I didn’t want to have to tell you. There were
two more at school and a few more at home, usually in the morning. One even
lasted about thirty seconds.” I don’t know why I added that last part. It just
popped out.
I
see him perk up in his chair. “That long? It must have been a back and forth
conversation.”
Cursing
myself, I nod. My head is still lowered so he can see how ‘ashamed’ I am. Not
that I have to pretend much.
“What
was discussed?”
I
don’t need a coach to tell me the right thing to say here. I look him straight
in the face. “My accident.”
“The
day you were struck by Andy Brennerman’s car.” It isn’t a question; more like
verifying a fact.
I
nod again.
“How
did discussing this subject make you feel?” His tone is gentle, his brows
lifted in what I would call concern.
“Anxious,
I guess.” I think about my brief flashback this morning. Then I find myself speaking
before realizing I intended to. “They told me my memory of dying will be coming
back.”
NO! Adam’s voice roars through me, full
of rage. I do my best not to react to the sheer power of it, but I still end up
blinking several times. I have to fight the urge to cry. I’ve never heard even
a hint of anger from him—I didn’t really think he was capable of it. I close my
eyes, pushing away the first signs of tears. When I open them, I see Dr. Duck
staring at me in an entirely different way. He looks…angry.
I
blink, and the look is gone. There’s nothing on his face but surprise.
Maybe
I just imagined it. I mean, what reason would he have to be mad?
Say nothing more about it, Lenie. No matter
what he asks. Grayson’s voice is low, and as grave as I’ve ever heard it. A
burst of fear rushes over me, shrieking through my insides. It verifies everything
I already knew—that something’s just gone very, horribly wrong.
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