As if to emphasize Denzili’s point, Hennigan rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. “My mother taught me long ago that extreme emotions prevent someone from being centered and aware of what’s happening around them. When we experience extreme emotions—intense joy, crippling sadness, debilitating fear—we narrow our focus.”
“Like tunnel vision?” Lucas asked.
“Precisely, my dear Lucas,” Hennigan said. She tilted her head to the side before adding, “You don’t mind if I refer to you as ‘dear’? I was recently informed that not everyone appreciates it.” She shot Ethan a meaningful look but didn’t call him out.
“I…uh…don’t mind,” Lucas said.
“Perfect,” Hennigan practically purred. “Think of it like being in a brightly lit room, but your focus is solely on the tiny, flickering candle in the corner. You become engrossed, whether it’s a flame of joyous excitement or a wick wavering in fear. Everything else fades into shadow, forgotten and unnoticed.”
“But why?” Lucas continued.
“I take it you’ve been plagued by extreme emotions most of your life,” Hennigan said it as a statement and not a question. Lucas nodded. She took a deep breath, and a look of tenderness crossed Hennigan’s face that Ethan found almost endearing. “Survival, mostly. Negative emotions trigger our fight-or-flight response. Our brain wants to protect us by concentrating on the ‘threat’ or the source of our emotions. Unfortunately, some people get into this cycle and can’t escape. Whether severe anxiety, depression or terror, they focus on extreme emotions. As for intense joy or excitement, it’s more about cognitive resources. We’re so caught up in the moment that the brain doesn’t process peripheral information as effectively.”
“Are you a psychologist?” Lucas asked.
“Same general ballpark. I’m a board-certified psychiatrist, as Ethan can attest. I also hold a master’s in public health and a PhD in bioengineering.”
“How’d you know I searched—?” Ethan said.
“I’m alerted anytime anyone searches for me. In my line of work, it’s always good to know when someone is looking for you online.”
“So, you’re saying we see less when we feel too much?” Lucas asked.
“Precisely. In my profession, seeing less will get me and others killed.” She turned to Kira and said, “So, let’s make that phone call.”
Dr. Hennigan
Dr. Hennigan wrote the instructions on a pad of paper and explained that the steps had to be followed precisely for her to be put through to the First Lady. Dr. Hennigan could tell Kira was skeptical, but Kira followed her instructions to the letter.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice said on the other end of the line.
“Yucca glauca,” Kira said, looking to Dr. Hennigan to ensure she said the name correctly.
“This is Cleo Barnes. May I ask who’s calling?”
“My name is Kira Strickland. We have a mutual acquaintance—”
“Is our friend with you now?” Cleo asked.
“Yes.”
“Honey, I need to take this call in the other room. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Hurry back. I wanted to go over the protocols of the State Dinner with you,” President Jeffery Barnes was heard saying in the background.
There was a rustling of a fabric followed by the opening and closing sound of a door. “This line is secure,” Cleo said before lowering her voice and asking, “What the hell is going on?”
“Cleo, it’s Phillipa. You’re on speakerphone.”
“Is Kira a recruit?” Cleo asked.
“She’s…not one of us.”
“Wait a second,” Cleo said. “She was the best friend of the guy you shot last month. What is going on out there?”
“It’s been an interesting few days, dear. The Complex has been temporarily hijacked. Don’t worry, the Chair and Vice Chair are secure, and Ms. Wilson is causing as much mayhem as possible. We’re working to re-secure The Complex as soon as possible. I’m calling tonight because of the problem we started at the concert the other night.”
“This is hardly the normal channels we connect through. How do I even know this is the real Phillipa Hennigan?”
