reassuring himself that I was real, too.
My mom chattered on. She might’ve been filling the silence just to make herself feel better. She mentioned it was the last week of September. I did the math—the middle of July to the end of September—I’d been held for more than two months.
It felt longer.
Personally, I was bone-tired. I would’ve liked silence so I could’ve gotten some sleep.
We reached North Conway at some point in the afternoon. Time had ceased to have meaning for me during the past months, and it would take some adjustment for the details of normal life to make sense again.
Driving up the nearly-empty road to the front gate of Ganzfield felt surreal. It had been almost a year since I’d first made this trip. Traumatic memories had been rattling around in my brain that time, too. Greg stopped at the barrier and the wind tossed a bright yellow leaf through his window as he keyed in his code. More leaves swirled along the open area outside the brick wall. The gate rolled open and Seth stepped out of the little guardhouse just inside the wall. He met my eyes through Greg’s open window and visibly winced. I framed a thought to him, knowing he’d pick it out of my head even though I couldn’t project thoughts anymore. Don’t say a word. Not to anyone.
He frowned. “Even Trevor?”
I grimaced at the sound of his voice—so much for discretion, Seth. Especially Trevor. Where’s Zack?
“Gone. He and Ann left this morning. Took three sparks and a healer. Rachel had a vision of Belinda.”
She’s not—? I hoped Rachel wasn’t putting the baby at risk by taking dodecamine. She’d already been exposed in the first months of her pregnancy.
“Unenhanced. We don’t know how accurate she is without meds.”
Sudden panic twisted through my gut. Zack wasn’t here and Ineeded these horrible memories out of my head. I needed to be with Trevor, and I couldn’t put all of this pain and ugliness into the head of my sweet, wonderful man. When’s he coming back?
“A few days, at least.” Seth answered my unspoken question. “If he’d’ve known how important it was for you to see him, maybe he wouldn’t have gone.”
Next to me, Trevor stiffened and sat up straighter. Dammit! How was I going to get rid of all this crap in my head?
Greg pulled the car up in front of Blake House. Apparently, I looked bad enough that the first stop was the infirmary. Matilda gasped when Trevor and my mom brought me in.
“Maddie! What did they do to you?” Her West African accent grew stronger when she was upset.
I flinched as she brought her hands to my face. She stopped, probably processing that my exaggerated startle reflex meant more than physical trauma. “I’m going to do an assessment now.” She spoke as through trying to soothe a feral animal and was careful not to make any more sudden movements. “It looks like you might have a dislocated jaw.”
I forced myself not to move away as she laid her hands on either side of my face. She gave a sudden, strong push with her palms and the dull pain at my hairline cracked sharply through my skull. I cried out, but Matilda was already pulsing healing energy through the area.
“How long ago did this happen?”
I shrugged. I neither knew the answer, nor had a way to tell her.
“It feels several weeks old. No wonder your weight is down. It must have been painful for you to eat.”
I hadn’t really noticed. I hadn’t wanted to eat.
Matilda closed her eyes as she completed her assessment. She gave me a gentle smile before turning away to write some notes on her desk. Trevor helped me into the annex, setting me on the first cot in the row. The shades were drawn against the afternoon sun and the room was too cool for my light clothes. I pulled into a defensive little ball, wrapping my arms around my knees.
My mom followed us in. “Honey, what do you need?” She seemed to be itching to get closer. I knew she wanted to talk with me, to help me deal with
My mom chattered on. She might’ve been filling the silence just to make herself feel better. She mentioned it was the last week of September. I did the math—the middle of July to the end of September—I’d been held for more than two months.
It felt longer.
Personally, I was bone-tired. I would’ve liked silence so I could’ve gotten some sleep.
We reached North Conway at some point in the afternoon. Time had ceased to have meaning for me during the past months, and it would take some adjustment for the details of normal life to make sense again.
Driving up the nearly-empty road to the front gate of Ganzfield felt surreal. It had been almost a year since I’d first made this trip. Traumatic memories had been rattling around in my brain that time, too. Greg stopped at the barrier and the wind tossed a bright yellow leaf through his window as he keyed in his code. More leaves swirled along the open area outside the brick wall. The gate rolled open and Seth stepped out of the little guardhouse just inside the wall. He met my eyes through Greg’s open window and visibly winced. I framed a thought to him, knowing he’d pick it out of my head even though I couldn’t project thoughts anymore. Don’t say a word. Not to anyone.
He frowned. “Even Trevor?”
I grimaced at the sound of his voice—so much for discretion, Seth. Especially Trevor. Where’s Zack?
“Gone. He and Ann left this morning. Took three sparks and a healer. Rachel had a vision of Belinda.”
She’s not—? I hoped Rachel wasn’t putting the baby at risk by taking dodecamine. She’d already been exposed in the first months of her pregnancy.
“Unenhanced. We don’t know how accurate she is without meds.”
Sudden panic twisted through my gut. Zack wasn’t here and Ineeded these horrible memories out of my head. I needed to be with Trevor, and I couldn’t put all of this pain and ugliness into the head of my sweet, wonderful man. When’s he coming back?
“A few days, at least.” Seth answered my unspoken question. “If he’d’ve known how important it was for you to see him, maybe he wouldn’t have gone.”
Next to me, Trevor stiffened and sat up straighter. Dammit! How was I going to get rid of all this crap in my head?
Greg pulled the car up in front of Blake House. Apparently, I looked bad enough that the first stop was the infirmary. Matilda gasped when Trevor and my mom brought me in.
“Maddie! What did they do to you?” Her West African accent grew stronger when she was upset.
I flinched as she brought her hands to my face. She stopped, probably processing that my exaggerated startle reflex meant more than physical trauma. “I’m going to do an assessment now.” She spoke as through trying to soothe a feral animal and was careful not to make any more sudden movements. “It looks like you might have a dislocated jaw.”
I forced myself not to move away as she laid her hands on either side of my face. She gave a sudden, strong push with her palms and the dull pain at my hairline cracked sharply through my skull. I cried out, but Matilda was already pulsing healing energy through the area.
“How long ago did this happen?”
I shrugged. I neither knew the answer, nor had a way to tell her.
“It feels several weeks old. No wonder your weight is down. It must have been painful for you to eat.”
I hadn’t really noticed. I hadn’t wanted to eat.
Matilda closed her eyes as she completed her assessment. She gave me a gentle smile before turning away to write some notes on her desk. Trevor helped me into the annex, setting me on the first cot in the row. The shades were drawn against the afternoon sun and the room was too cool for my light clothes. I pulled into a defensive little ball, wrapping my arms around my knees.
My mom followed us in. “Honey, what do you need?” She seemed to be itching to get closer. I knew she wanted to talk with me, to help me deal with
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