You've Been Warned - James Patterson [49]
He chuckles. “I suppose you’re right. Just remember there are no wrong answers, so don’t overthink it. All I ask is that you be as honest with your answers as possible.”
“Because there are no wrong answers,” I say.
“That’s right.”
He repeats the sentence for me. I consider myself a . . .
“Decent person,” I answer.
“See? Nothing to it. Okay, next one,” he says, picking up the pace. “The world is getting more blank.”
“Dangerous,” I say. No indecision about that one.
“I think most people are . . .”
“Lonely.”
“When I’m under stress I like to . . .”
“Work in my darkroom.”
“If I could change one thing about myself it would be . . .”
“My career. I mean, I’d like to be more successful at it. I’m a photographer.”
“The last person I got upset at was . . .”
“Myself.”
“The most important person in my life is . . .”
Without thinking, I open my mouth to answer “Michael.” I barely catch myself. I can’t tell him that!
“What’s wrong?” asks Dr. Curley.
“Uh, nothing,” I say, shifting in my seat. “I had to think about it for a second. The most important person in my life is Connie, my best friend.”
He nods. He’s been nodding all along, only this one is a little different, slower. Does he know I’m lying? Of course he does. The guy’s no dummy.
“Okay, last two,” he says. “I had a blank childhood.”
I hesitate before answering. “Difficult.”
“And last, the thing I’m most afraid of is . . .”
That’s easy. “Dying.”
Chapter 67
I WATCH AS Dr. Curley makes a few more quick notes, his pen gliding back and forth across his notepad. Given my lack of sleep, the effect is like the swinging pocket watch of a hypnotist. I can barely keep my eyes open. But I do not want the dream to come again!
“Still with me, Kristin?”
I snap to. The pen’s down, and he’s staring at me. “Yes. Sorry about that,” I say.
“Quite all right. No problem.”
“So, did I pass?”
“Like I said, there are no wrong answers. No trick ones either. But I do appreciate your honesty.”
“What now?” I ask. Speaking of honesty.
He adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses. “Here’s what I’m thinking,” he begins. “It’s getting late, you’re miles from home, you’ve suffered a minor concussion, and you’re clearly exhausted. How would you feel about spending the night here at the hospital?”
When you put it that way . . .
The thought of not having to make the trip back to Manhattan immediately appeals to me so much. So does the prospect of — at long last — a good night’s sleep. Who knows? Maybe being in a hospital will stave off that damn dream, the burning smell, the bug thing.
“Sure, why not?” I say.
Dr. Curley tells me to “hang out and relax” for a moment, as he needs to clear it with another doctor. He leaves, closing the door behind him.
I sit and wait. I’m getting a little bit antsy now. And paranoid? Of course.
A few minutes go by, followed by a few more. I’m hanging out, but I’m definitely not relaxing. Where is he? C’mon, c’mon. I’m clearly exhausted, remember?
I get up from the chair and walk to the door, opening it just enough to poke my head out. Sure enough, I spot Dr. Curley down the hall, talking on his cell phone. He’s standing with another man, who I assume is the doctor he mentioned. But I can’t quite see him thanks to Curley’s bushy blond hair.
Then Dr. Curley shifts his feet, and I manage to catch a glimpse of the other doctor’s face. I immediately do a double take, and my heart does a little flip-flop. Make that a big flip-flop.
I know him!
Or at least I used to.
Before he was murdered in my hometown of Concord, Massachusetts.
Chapter 68
THIS IS A MONSTER CLUE in the ongoing mystery called “my life of late.” It has to be.
I whip my head back from the hallway, quickly shutting the door. I’m alone in the room and desperately want to keep it that way.
I have no idea how Dr. Magnumsen, my pediatrician from my hometown, could be alive, let alone working in Brooklyn. What’s more, he hasn’t aged a day. He looks exactly as he did when I last saw him.
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