Dr. Fonseca browsed the patient file, though he wouldn’t find anything there that he didn’t already know. Major had ordered him to release me today, so that was what would happen.
“Is everything all right?” Linda rose from the chair and stood beside Ronald, who wrapped an arm around her.
Dr. Fonseca looked up from the papers and smiled tightly. “Yes, the blood test results are good. She’s in good health. But she shouldn’t overstrain herself.” He turned his attention to me. “Lots of rest. No extracurricular sports, and no gym at school. Otherwise, I don’t see any reason why we should keep you here.” The truth was he couldn’t wait to get me out of the hospital. I knew it must be hard for a scientist to encounter a freak like me, who made him doubt everything he thought he knew.
“It’s incredible,” Linda said, unaware of the tension gripping Dr. Fonseca’s body. “She’s recovering so quickly. It’s a miracle.”
“A miracle,” Fonseca repeated.
Coming from his mouth it sounded like a curse. “You’re probably right. I’ve never encountered anything quite like this.” I was the only one who noticed the anxiety in his voice and the way he said “anything” with an emphasis on thing, like I wasn’t human. If he’d been allowed to, he’d have loved to do tests on me. He’d tried to keep one of my blood samples, despite the orders from the FEA to forward everything to them. Major was furious when he found out. I wished I could have witnessed that episode, but I’d had to settle for a secondhand recount from an agent disguised as a nurse.
Fonseca’s eyes hovered somewhere over my head, never meeting my own. “You can go home now,” he finally concluded.
Linda zipped the tote bag shut. She’d already packed it an hour ago.
We left the hospital as a family. Ronald led me with a gentle hand on my back as though he was afraid I’d collapse or disappear.
I was silent during the drive to my new home, trying to memorize every detail along the way. The map hadn’t lied; Livingston was an exceedingly small town. We passed row after row of houses with the same anthracite shingles, beige double garages, and patios decorated with flower beds. Vans with visible child seats were parked in front of every other home and I caught the occasional glimpse of a swingset in a backyard, and yet there weren’t any children playing in the streets. Had their parents forbidden them to go outside while a killer was on the loose?
After just a few minutes we pulled onto a street with the same sort of two-story houses that filled the rest of town, only these were much newer versions. Ronald stopped the car in the driveway. As we piled out, I could feel their eyes on me, waiting for a reaction, a sign of recognition.
I’d seen the house in photos but, of course, they hadn’t given me a sense of home the way it would have meant to Madison. The red flowers in the flower beds lining the front walkway were withered and from the looks of it the grass in the front yard hadn’t been mowed in a couple of weeks.
“Do you remember?” Linda asked, her voice hesitant. Ronald played with the keys in his hands as he stared anywhere but at me.
I nodded slowly. “It’s all a bit hazy but it’s coming back.”
This wasn’t what they’d wanted to hear. I knew this wouldn’t be the last time I said something they hadn’t expected. The front door of the neighboring house opened and a middle-aged man with a paunch stepped out, holding a garbage bag. The old I-have-to-bring-out-the-garbage-but-really-I’m-snooping trick.
He strolled toward his trash can, only to stop with badly played surprise when he spotted us. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. He dropped the bag into the trash can before ambling over to us. He looked at me with barely disguised curiosity.
“How are you? I didn’t know you’d come home today,” he said. I could see the curtains shifting in a few of the other houses.
“She’s fine but she’s tired,” Ronald said curtly. He squeezed my shoulder and gave Linda a meaningful look. She took my hand and, after shooting a tight smile at the neighbor, dragged me toward the front door.
“Looks like your lawn could use a trimming, my friend,” was the last I heard from the neighbor before Ronald stepped into the hall and closed the door.
Inside, the house oozed comfort and love. Everything was colored in warm beige and yellow tones, and family photos covered almost every surface. Light streamed through the huge, arched windows. The overstuffed sofas were beige too and looked comfortable enough to sleep on.
“Do you want to go up to your room?” Ronald asked.
They probably hoped I’d know where to find Madison’s room. Major had said I shouldn’t push the amnesia too far or it would hinder me from investigating, but how far was too far? I tried to recall the floor plan of the house that Kate had drawn after she’d raided Linda’s mind, but it was one thing to see it on a piece of paper and another thing to actually be inside the house.