see the secretary peek in. “Excuse me, Dr. Clark, but your next appointment is here.”
“Of course, Isla,” my mother said, taking the bottle of mineral water her minion held out. “We’re just finishing up here.”
I wasn’t finished, but she was obviously finished with me. “Did Paul know you did this to me?”
My mother hesitated, and then nodded. “He suspected after your interview. I explained what had happened and cautioned him not to say anything. I didn’t want to cause you any more unnecessary pain.”
“Well, these blocks are hurting me now. I’m taking them down in whatever way I can.”
My mother dropped her bottle of water and it crashed to the floor, shattered. Ignoring the mess, she stepped over it and reached out to take my arm. Her grip was viselike. “Don’t do it, Mindy, I’m begging you.”
“What?” I looked at her, trying to shake her off. “You want me to get a brain aneurysm or have a stroke? Whatever’s waiting on the other side of those memories has to be better than this.”
She tightened her grip impossibly. “You had to be restrained to keep from hurting yourself or others, Mindy. For the love of God and your sanity, please don’t take the blocks down. Have your scientist friends monitor your brain patterns and see if there’s any way a telepath or a magic user can help, but whatever you do, please don’t take those blocks down.” She was shaking. “You…you won’t be able to handle it.”
Her secretary reappeared with another stuffed-shirt scientist, who took one look at the mess on the floor and then asked my mother hesitantly, “Is everything all right?”
My mother straightened, dropping my arm and returning to a cool and composed demeanor. I rubbed at the bruises she’d left on my arm. “Everything’s fine. My daughter was just leaving.”
I nodded. “Good-bye, Mom. Give Dad my love.” I turned and followed the secretary down the hall and to the elevator, went down and tossed my clearance badge on the desk of the shell-shocked receptionist.
It wasn’t until I’d reached the comfort and safety of the car, with the shade up between me and the driver, that I let myself burst into tears, but then I sobbed all the way home. What in the hell had happened to me? My mother couldn’t deal with what she had unknowingly done, and I couldn’t handle not knowing. But if what lay on the other side of my memories might drive me insane, was staying in the dark a better option?
By the time I arrived home and went upstairs, my eyes were dry and I knew what I had to do.
Paul didn’t mention my red-rimmed eyes, if he noticed them. “Yes?” he asked, looking up from his computer screen as I appeared in front of him.
“Run whatever tests you want.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
What seemed like hours later, I was still a guinea pig. Paul was running what seemed like every possible test on me. I had been poked and prodded, scanned and monitored, and I was more than a little sick of it. It took me back to my first days returned to Earth, or at least the ones I remembered, where I’d lain in a hospital bed while machines beeped and doctors buzzed around me.
“Are you cold?” Paul asked, and I realized that I was shaking.
“A little,” I admitted, running my hands up my arms, trying to soothe the goose bumps popping up with my memories. “These hospital gowns are a little thin.”
“Well, we’re almost done,” he said, fixing an electrode to my head and double-checking the reading.
Our animosity hadn’t changed, as we hadn’t really addressed what was said previously. We’d had to travel to an actual hospital, because the EHJ didn’t have all of the necessary equipment. My mind started buzzing with the possibility of building it for us, but that would take a bit of work. And I didn’t have a medical background like Paul, so I’d probably need his help. He’d stand there and tell me I was doing everything wrong, like the know-it-all he was. Big, smug
“Of course, Isla,” my mother said, taking the bottle of mineral water her minion held out. “We’re just finishing up here.”
I wasn’t finished, but she was obviously finished with me. “Did Paul know you did this to me?”
My mother hesitated, and then nodded. “He suspected after your interview. I explained what had happened and cautioned him not to say anything. I didn’t want to cause you any more unnecessary pain.”
“Well, these blocks are hurting me now. I’m taking them down in whatever way I can.”
My mother dropped her bottle of water and it crashed to the floor, shattered. Ignoring the mess, she stepped over it and reached out to take my arm. Her grip was viselike. “Don’t do it, Mindy, I’m begging you.”
“What?” I looked at her, trying to shake her off. “You want me to get a brain aneurysm or have a stroke? Whatever’s waiting on the other side of those memories has to be better than this.”
She tightened her grip impossibly. “You had to be restrained to keep from hurting yourself or others, Mindy. For the love of God and your sanity, please don’t take the blocks down. Have your scientist friends monitor your brain patterns and see if there’s any way a telepath or a magic user can help, but whatever you do, please don’t take those blocks down.” She was shaking. “You…you won’t be able to handle it.”
Her secretary reappeared with another stuffed-shirt scientist, who took one look at the mess on the floor and then asked my mother hesitantly, “Is everything all right?”
My mother straightened, dropping my arm and returning to a cool and composed demeanor. I rubbed at the bruises she’d left on my arm. “Everything’s fine. My daughter was just leaving.”
I nodded. “Good-bye, Mom. Give Dad my love.” I turned and followed the secretary down the hall and to the elevator, went down and tossed my clearance badge on the desk of the shell-shocked receptionist.
It wasn’t until I’d reached the comfort and safety of the car, with the shade up between me and the driver, that I let myself burst into tears, but then I sobbed all the way home. What in the hell had happened to me? My mother couldn’t deal with what she had unknowingly done, and I couldn’t handle not knowing. But if what lay on the other side of my memories might drive me insane, was staying in the dark a better option?
By the time I arrived home and went upstairs, my eyes were dry and I knew what I had to do.
Paul didn’t mention my red-rimmed eyes, if he noticed them. “Yes?” he asked, looking up from his computer screen as I appeared in front of him.
“Run whatever tests you want.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
What seemed like hours later, I was still a guinea pig. Paul was running what seemed like every possible test on me. I had been poked and prodded, scanned and monitored, and I was more than a little sick of it. It took me back to my first days returned to Earth, or at least the ones I remembered, where I’d lain in a hospital bed while machines beeped and doctors buzzed around me.
“Are you cold?” Paul asked, and I realized that I was shaking.
“A little,” I admitted, running my hands up my arms, trying to soothe the goose bumps popping up with my memories. “These hospital gowns are a little thin.”
“Well, we’re almost done,” he said, fixing an electrode to my head and double-checking the reading.
Our animosity hadn’t changed, as we hadn’t really addressed what was said previously. We’d had to travel to an actual hospital, because the EHJ didn’t have all of the necessary equipment. My mind started buzzing with the possibility of building it for us, but that would take a bit of work. And I didn’t have a medical background like Paul, so I’d probably need his help. He’d stand there and tell me I was doing everything wrong, like the know-it-all he was. Big, smug
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