When I got to the break-ins, I mentioned Real Tech as well. I explained about returning from out to town to Christopher’s arrest, though he was innocent. She shook her head when I said I’d tried to convince my family about the time travel, in order to make them see Eric as the villain, but they’d had me committed.
“Your sister is a nice enough girl and a skilled nurse,” Dr. Maeve said. “But she has no imagination.”
Coming from Dr. Maeve—a sixty-year-old grandma with dyed, flame-colored locks, her rainbow yarn sweater, and knee-high lace-up red leather boots—this was a critical flaw, a harsh indictment.
My surprise at her criticism of my sister must have shown, because she said, “You and Meghan are very different. You’ve always seen possibilities about your work and your life. She prefers everything to be safe and predictable. She needs to be in control.”
It sounded like Dr. Maeve preferred someone like me, which made me feel valued. The only secret I held back was about Christopher’s mind-reading. It wasn’t my secret.
“You’ve been busy,” was her comment when I finished. “You’re still very tense.”
“Christopher. I can’t relax with him in jail.”
“We need to get you some information,” she said, tapping her lip again.
My eyebrows shot up my forehead, surprised that she could help with this too. Of course, what was a little computer hacking when she could facilitate time travel? My heart skipped with excitement while my stomach churned. What if he was still in jail? Where would I go? I didn’t want to be alone.
She tapped several keys on her computer and used her mouse to navigate the pages she found, though I couldn’t see what she was looking at.
“Does this mean your report will be favorable?”
“You aren’t a danger to yourself or others. That’s the criteria for a continued psych hold.” She waved away the idea.
I breathed a deep sigh of relief at her dismissal of further incarceration. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath for the last three days. I wanted to leave. The air here compressed my lungs and made it difficult to breathe.
“I worry that you’ve gotten involved in something dubious, but for the right reasons,” said Dr. Maeve. “It’s wonderful therapy to help someone for whom you used to harbor resentment.”
It was true I felt different about Brandon now. I felt sorry for him instead of angry. When he woke up, he was the one who would be alone.
She paused. “Do you want to return to 2022? Or are you happier here, despite the setbacks? I notice you still cannot speak in front of people.”
“I whisper to Christopher.”My cheeks burned. They were usually intimate, naked whispers.
“Oh, that is progress, my dear.” Reading my discomfort, she laughed, clapping in delight as I turned even redder. “Fantastic progress. Good for you. Let’s continue your therapy. At last, we seem to be on the right track.”
She typed a password. “I’m in. What’s your Christopher’s last name?”
“Winters.”
“They released Christopher Winters an hour ago. They brought no formal charges, as all evidence was circumstantial. Even the fingerprints were dismissed.”
“He’ll be worried when he gets home and finds I haven’t been there.”
“Borrow my phone.” Dr. Maeve slid her desk phone toward me. “Dial nine first.”
My hands shook as I did as instructed. I handed the receiver to Dr. Maeve and wrote my comments in our chat.
“I’m calling for Elizabeth,” she said when he answered. “Hold on. She’s fine.”
“She wants to know where you are.” There was a pause.
“You just arrived at her father’s in an Uber.”
He must have thought that I was there. I typed instructions on the screen.
“Elizabeth says not to go in. She isn’t there. Ember will be fine and can stay a little longer. The rental car is still there with your stuff.”
“Yes, Elizabeth is here with me right now, but she doesn’t have her phone back yet. This is the landline phone in my office.”
