But that was why she was here, wasn’t it? She had to talk to him eventually. She couldn’t avoid it. Here was as good as anywhere, and now was as good as later. She had the awful feeling that even if she had a hundred years, her head was so scrambled with worry that she would never be able to come up with a way to solve all of this and wrap it up with a neat bow.
Part of her, after all, was sick of lying to him already.
She walked over to him, feeling like every step was a drag, her feet heavy on the floor. He looked so professional standing there: his brown hair neatly combed back, and his suit covered by a white doctor’s coat. Sometimes it was possible to forget that he was a doctor, but seeing him here, there was no forgetting it.
“Are you alright?” he asked as soon as she got close enough to him for their conversation to be private. A pang of pain hit her heart. Trust Chris to be more concerned about her than angry. How could she ever have let her trust in him fade to the point that she had pointed a gun in his face?
“I’m fine,” she said, brushing off his concerns. There were more important things going on right now, after all. “How is Zach?”
Chris motioned for her to follow him, making her heart sink. Laura had witnessed Zach, the only other psychic she had ever met, suffer a heart attack right in front of her eyes. Chris had managed to stab a needle of adrenaline right into his heart and revive him, but…
Was it going to be bad news, after all?
Chris led her to a private room a couple of doors down and closed it after she entered, making her heart sink even further. It was bad. It had to be bad.
“Zach is going to be fine,” he said, and Laura let out a breath of such heavy relief that it was almost a sob. She covered her face for a moment, sinking down into one of the plastic stiff-backed chairs.
“I thought…” she said, cutting herself off. She couldn’t even say it. The last day had been such a heavy one, and with the pressure still on her, she thought for a moment that she would throw up. But Zach was alright. He was alright!
She hadn’t exactly bonded right away with the old man. He was the only other psychic she had ever met, yes, but from the beginning she hadn’t known if she could trust him. Maybe her life had gotten to a point where it was hard for her to trust anyone new. From the ex-husband who had put her through a nasty divorce and tried to take her child, to the killers and liars they interviewed in every case, to Nate’s initial reaction when he found out about her powers, and even to her own failure to stop alcohol from ruining her life. It was hard to take someone new at face value.
But even given all of that, she found that she had really come to rely on Zach as a lifeline. A comfort blanket. An option she could reach out to when all else seemed lost. He was the only one who could help her even begin to understand her powers and how they worked, and why, particularly, they weren’t working now.
The idea of losing him so abruptly…
She was relieved it hadn’t happened.
“What the hell was that, Laura?” Chris asked. It was the inevitable question. The one she had known she was going to face sooner or later. She’d watched him grab something out of his case and go to stab it into Zach’s chest, and thanks to her visions, she’d believed he was about to kill the old man. In reality, he’d saved his life. But not before Laura pulled a gun on him first.
“I’m sorry,” Laura said. “I was stressed after coming back from the case—I’d just been in a life-or-death situation…”
It was true. The closest to the truth that she dared to go. She and Nate had narrowly evaded death at the hands of the Gramophone Killer—as the press had since dubbed him. Artur Oreyo had cornered them both in an abandoned warehouse, disarmed them, and come after them with a sword that had already claimed several lives. The fact that they had both survived was more or less a miracle.
Except it wasn’t a miracle—it was Laura’s gift that had warned them to run just before Oreyo was about to strike.
The situation they’d been through would have been enough to leave most people, people who didn’t do this for a job, with PTSD. Or at least a severe trauma response in the short term. It wouldn’t be unusual for them to be jumpy after that. Chris had to buy it. Didn’t he?
“I understand that,” he said, pinching his nose, “but, Laura, it’s not like either of us were threatening you. Zach was having a heart attack and I was trying to save his life.”
“I know,” she said. “I know. I just kind of panicked. I saw that there was some kind of danger and I reacted badly. I’m sorry. It was just the heat of the moment. I know you wouldn’t really hurt him.”
“You thought I was going to hurt him?”
Laura swallowed, regretting the slip. “No, I know you wouldn’t. I was just reading it wrong, that’s all.”
“Laura…” Chris sighed, shaking his head. “I thought we were past this. You thinking that I’m anything like my brother.”
Laura’s eyes hit the floor in shame. He was right, of course. That was exactly what she had thought when she started having the visions of him stabbing Zach. That he was acting like his brother, Governor John Fallow, who had beaten his child and eventually murdered his wife. But Chris was the opposite of John. Chris was the doting uncle who had taken Amy in when her father was imprisoned. He was a doctor who dedicated his life to helping people. He was kind and good.
And Laura had screwed up, like always.
“I’m sorry,” she said. It was the only thing she had. “I just—I panicked.”
Chris gave her a long, thoughtful look. He reached out and touched her arm, holding her gently but not restraining her. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”
“What do you mean?” Laura asked, inwardly sweating. Of course, that wasn’t all. There was more. But how could he possibly know that? “What else would it be?”
Chris rubbed his mouth for a moment as if he wanted to say something but was holding it back, but then shook his head. “I’m not actually on shift today,” he said. “I’m supposed to be picking up Amy from school in half an hour. I’ve got to get over there.”