Madeleine & the Mind by Felicia Mires

Giliteau told me about your project. I suppose you heard him. You pushed him on purpose, didn't you? You don't have to be jealous. They pay me to take care of you. I'm not going to run after anyone else."
    He turned off his machine and walked out.
    Interesting. What had she said that he didn't like? Or, was he completely oblivious to her conversation?
    She gathered up his belongings and followed him to the elevator. "Steven, you can't leave your clothes lying around. And you shouldn't go traipsing about without your shirt. None of the women will get any work done."
    They stepped into the elevator, and she helped him slip his shirt on. She buttoned the top button then looked up at his eyes. They held that intent look again.
    "What are you thinking right now?"
    Her hand dropped away from his shirt, and she stepped back.
    He gave her a wide, innocent smile.
    Suddenly, the bell dinged, and the door opened behind her.
    When they reached their rooms, Madeleine got out her bathing suit. "I'm going swimming. Do you want to go?"
    She wandered into his room and found him sitting at the window. She walked over to him and reached for his face.
    "Look at me. Do you even know why I'm here? I'm supposed to help you speak again. Don't you want to speak?"
    He gave her that innocuous, childlike smile. He was so beautiful, it was heartbreaking. Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away. There was no reason to distress him. She had to believe God would heal him, would show her how to help him.
    "Give me your hand, Steven."
    He held it up, and Madeleine put it on her throat. She hummed. "Can you feel that? I need you to try that."
    She put her hand on his Adam's apple. "Try to make your throat vibrate."
    She waited several seconds, but nothing happened, so she dropped her hand away. "It's all right. We'll figure it out."
    He reached up and covered her neck with his hand.
    "You want me to hum?" She hummed, and he grinned. "You can feel that, can't you?" She hummed again then she reached for his neck. "Now, you."
    She stared into his eyes, waiting for him to try it. All of the sudden, his eyes went blank.
    She dropped her hand and stood. "You know, sometimes you just close up. But I appreciate those moments when you really look at me." She stepped to the dividing door. "I'm locking this door, because I'm going to change my clothes. Put on your bathing suit. When I'm ready, I'll knock."
    Madeleine slipped into the black suit, deep in thought about her patient. Dr. Steven Faraday was an enigma. Madeleine desperately needed to speak with his physician. Maybe there was some type of therapy Steven needed, something she hadn't thought of. And who was in charge at The Institute? Thus far, Mike was the only person who told her what to do. Shouldn't someone be checking on her program of therapy?
    She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds. It wasn't as if he would answer. She opened the door, and he was sitting at his desk writing. She gasped. He was writing!
    She ran to look over his shoulder.
    Madeleine Madeleine Madeleine Madeleine
    He was writing her name over and over and spelling it correctly. She sank back on his bed and watched him. Why in the world was he writing her name? It could mean any number of things. Maybe he was trying to communicate what he couldn't speak.
    She watched him for five more minutes before he put the pen down.
    She stood and looked at the paper. Nothing but her name. So much for communicating.
    She patted his hand. "That's very smart of you. You spelled it correctly, and you have lovely penmanship. May I have this?"
    He handed it to her.
    Madeleine took it to her room and placed it beside her bed.
    "Are you ready to go swimming?" she called from the other room.
    Steven walked in carrying a bottle of sunblock and a towel. He handed her the sunblock and turned his back to her.
    "I take it you want some lotion."
    She rubbed lotion across his back, keeping her mind under strict control. She tried not to think about how