Run Away by Laura Salters Page B

gone. All that remained was a black canvas flecked with kaleidoscope splodges of light, caused by running too fast and not inhaling enough oxygen. She pressed her fingertips into her eyelids and the spots intensified, but the face wouldn’t materialize.
    “H O W A R E Y O U feeling today?” Dr. Myers peered at Kayla, who hadn’t even showered since her curtailed run, over the rim of her glasses.
    Kayla paused. There were some things that shouldn’t be shared with a near stranger. “I’m okay.” She dug her nails into her palm again, searching for relief that would never last.
    Her shrink leaned back in her chair. “Can you tell me a little bit about your childhood? How did you and Gabriel get along when you were growing up?”
    The change of subject caught Kayla off-­guard. It wasn’t something she’d thought about in a while, and for some reason the mention of her childhood flipped her stomach. It was a sharp downward jerk, as if lassoed by an invisible rope. And it only happened once. But it happened. “It was fine, really. Average. We squabbled like most kids, but were perfectly happy to play Monopoly together five minutes later. Just a normal sibling relationship.” As far as she knew, she was telling the truth. So why did she feel so uneasy?
    Dr. Myers nodded. “What was the age difference between you?”
    “He was younger than me by nearly three years.”
    “And do you remember as far back as when he was born? Do you remember how you felt when you had to suddenly share your parents’ attention with him?”
    “Actually, I do remember that far back. Before he was born, my mum drank a lot, though I didn’t really understand that at the time. I just knew that the nanny had to look after me after hours, overnight, on weekends, because my mum wasn’t able to. And my dad worked away a lot, expanding the business, I think. But when my mum was pregnant, she obviously didn’t drink, so it was really nice getting to spend lots of time with her. Then they found out Gabe was really sick, and wasn’t developing properly in the womb, and my mum had a few complications. So my dad was home much more, taking care of us. I just remember feeling really happy that we were a proper family, like my school friends seemed to have. I guess I was too young to realize how selfish it was to feel glad that my unborn brother was so ill.”
    Dr. Myers shook her head. “It’s not at all selfish. When we’re younger, we tend to see things in a much more A-­plus-­B-­equals-­C sort of way, because we don’t really have a grasp of what’s moral and what isn’t. That’s why young brains are so unfiltered, and a child will often tell an adult if they look ugly, or if they really need to ‘go poo-­poo.’ Social protocols haven’t registered, and we’re much more primitive and to-­the-­point.” She pursed her lips. “We don’t censor ourselves quite as much as we do when we’re grown up.”
    Kayla detected the less-­than-­subtle hint. Dr. Myers knew she was hiding something. “Yeah. I guess.”
    Dr. Myers leaned back in her chair and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Kayla noted, for the first time, how young she was. She couldn’t have been a day over thirty. And the perfume she was wearing, rather than being the kind of thick and musky scent often chosen by more confident and mature women, was sweet, like vanilla and coconut. Instead of throwing Kayla off, and causing her to doubt the young doctor’s capabilities, the realization made her feel more at ease. She liked that they were relatively close in age.
    When Dr. Myers next spoke, her smooth voice seemed less polished, less sharp, though of course it hadn’t changed at all. “How did Gabe’s illness affect your childhood? If at all?”
    Kayla puffed her cheeks up and slowly forced the air through her lips. “For the first few years, he was in and out of the hospital. At first, I didn’t really understand what was going on. Just that whenever