She gulped, terrified, shaking. Could she have been in his head all this time and never really known the truth about who he was? What he was capable of?
A loud shrieking filled her head, and she realized it was her own screams echoing back at her as she plummeted into a bottomless hole of pure, terrifying darkness.
CHAPTER 30
She’s coming to.”
“Is she lucid?”
“I have good brain scans.”
“Her heart rate is spiking.”
Curtis’s voice said, “Sadie, it’s all right, you’re fine, you’re safe. Can you look at me?”
Sadie opened her eyes, expecting to see the oval ceiling of the Stasis Center, but instead she was in what appeared to be a hospital room. There were no sensors; she was in a nightgown. Curtis was next to the bed. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the medical wing at Mind Corps,” Curtis told her. “You’ve been under sedation, but you’re out of it now.”
“Sedation? What happened to stasis? What’s going on?” The heart monitor reacted with a loud beeping that felt like it was piercing her head. And then it came back to her: Willy, the church, Ford, the gun, gloves—
Horror. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why am I here? Shouldn’t I still be in Syncopy?”
Catrina said, “There was a glitch.” Sadie thought she was avoiding Curtis’s gaze.
Curtis interrupted, “You gave us quite a scare. Your mind disengaged itself from Syncopy. We’ve never seen that before. Did something happen?”
Sadie had no idea how to answer. Rationally, she knew it should have been simple. She was the eyewitness to a murder. She saw it. She had to report it. Had to turn Ford in.
I can’t, she protested instinctively, recoiling from the thought. He hadn’t been in his right mind.
Because of you, she went on, torturing herself. You are responsible. You did this to him.
Unless—
Immediately she saw an alternative that was worse. What if the Ford she thought she knew wasn’t him at all? What if he’d really been hiding a monster inside of him the entire time? What if he was a psychopath so cunning, so cool, that he’d had her fooled?
It wasn’t possible. Was it?
She had to get out of here. She had to see him. Hear his version of the story. Watch him while he talked. Then she would know. Wouldn’t she?
It would mean betraying Mind Corps, the contract she’d signed, the rules. Betraying Curtis.
“Sadie?” Curtis said gently. “Is everything okay?” He sounded concerned, as if there could be something really wrong with her, and she felt a pang of guilt. He trusted her, and she was repaying him by lying and running away. Trying to run away, she corrected.
A faint memory from orientation, someone saying that if you’re pulled out of Sycnopy too early it could cause—
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice almost hysterical in her ears. That could work, she decided. “I—I can’t seem to remember anything past dinner last night. Tortellini. Butternut squash. There was a beet salad.” Too many details, she told herself. “Then he went to bed, and—it’s a blank.”
“After that?”
“Nothing.” She felt like the lie must be so obvious, the way Curtis and Catrina were studying her, but she didn’t detect anything on either of their faces. They just looked like they were worried and trying not to show it. She felt another jab of guilt.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“It’s a little after ten,” Catrina told her. “You’ve been under sedation nearly twenty-four hours to make sure your brain scans were clear.”
Sadie’s heart dropped and she forgot about feeling guilty. Twenty-four hours? He could already have been arrested. She looked from Catrina to Curtis. Did one of them know more than they were saying? Could someone else know what she’d seen?
“Is there any way to read a Subject’s mind without Minders?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Curtis said, looking at her curiously.
“So all information from the chi—relays has to come from Minders,” Sadie clarified.
Curtis nodded. “Yes. Why?”
At least Ford was safe from her.
“I—” Sadie fumbled with how to go on. “I was just thinking that it means—it’s important that I remember. What happened. Because you won’t know any other way.” Stop talking, she ordered herself.
She felt Curtis studying her, but she avoided looking at him, hoping she seemed confused rather than evasive. Now, as though reading her mind, he said, “Given the minor amnesia, I think we should send Miss Ames home and schedule her debriefing in two days.”
Catrina said, “I humbly disagree.” The word humbly sounded laughable in her mouth, and there was clearly tension between her and Curtis. “I think it would be best if she began debriefing immediately. You and I should be sufficient.”
“She doesn’t remember anything,” Curtis pointed out.
Catrina stared at him. “Or maybe she does and she doesn’t want to tell.”
“I don’t,” Sadie said to no one.
Curtis’s voice had an edge. “Whatever the case, the best place for her to rest and remember is at home. She would go nuts wandering the halls here, bumping into people.”
Catrina had seemed ready to object again, but his last words changed her mind. “I suppose that’s true,” she said. “Home is probably better.”
“Excellent.” Curtis gave her a faint nod. “Please give Miss Ames whatever assistance she needs. I’ll bring in her parents. And then, when her memory returns in a few days, we’ll do the debriefing.” He smiled reassuringly at Sadie.
“Thank you,” she said.
Sadie was clumsy in her body. It felt strange to move around, and she was struck even more forcefully by how different her perspective was from Ford’s.
What she noticed most, though, was the silence. It was so quiet in her mind. So… even. After the constant buffeting of Ford’s emotions, she was acutely aware of how little she normally felt.
God, she missed him.
Sadie showered and dressed and was escorted to a smaller elevator that whisked her quickly up the fourteen stories to the ground floor. A man in a dark suit was waiting to take her to a sitting room she’d never been in. It had French doors that opened out onto the terrace where she’d had her debriefing. Four weeks, four lifetimes ago.
She paused on the threshold, taking in the scene. Her father was standing by the windows, talking on the phone. Pete was near him, staring out and tapping on one of the panes. Her mother was on the sofa facing the door, in a posture of anticipation. Sadie put on a smile and stepped into the room.
The smile felt odd, as though her face wasn’t used to it, which was nuts because she’d smiled plenty, laughed plenty, with Ford. But this was a different smile, she realized. A smile that was more considered and careful than the smile of the past five weeks.
Her mother rose as soon as she saw Sadie. She had tears in her eyes as though she’d just been told bad news. “Darling,” she said, giving Sadie an awkward hug. “It’s wonderful to see you. And a week early. We are delighted.”
Sadie looked at her mother and felt like she was seeing her for the first time. She was thinner than she remembered, with tiny lines around her eyes. But she also looked more formidable, somehow. “How do you feel?” she asked Sadie.
“Funny,” Sadie told her. “It’s odd being back in my body.”
“You don’t look odd at all,” Pete said, coming toward her. “You look good enough to eat.”