Final Target(17)
“I think you’re more generous and caring than you admit.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I want to go to med school because I’m looking for answers?”
“That’s why we all study.”
“No, I want my answers. I want to know why I resigned from the world for six years.” She looked down into her glass. “And I want to know about Donny Benjamin.”
“Mellie, you were in a highly charged state and your imagination was working overtime.”
“And you don’t want to think your little sister is wacko.”
“You’re not wacko. If you’d actually thought you’d developed some sort of psychic power, you’d have enrolled in classes in psychic research.”
“Oh, I’ve read enough books on ESP to fill a library. But I didn’t want to find answers there. Believe me, I’d much rather discover some simple physical reason for what’s happening to me.”
“You’re right. Donny Benjamin was an isolated incident and perfectly explainable.”
“And Cassie?”
“The same explanation. I discussed both cases with you and you’re highly sensitive to suggestion in that area.”
“In the area of never-never land?”
“Whatever you want to call it. It’s still perfectly reasonable that you—”
“Stop.” Melissa was laughing. “The one thing I’ve come to realize is that what happened to me has nothing to do with reason. It’s wonderful of you to make excuses to keep me out of the nuthouse, but I am what I am.”
“And that is?”
“A freak.” She held up a hand to stop Jessica’s protests. “A nice freak, an intelligent and charismatic freak. But definitely a freak. And stop looking at me as if you want to put me to bed and soothe my fevered brow. I know you wrote this terrific book about me and the way we fought back to normalcy, but you screwed up on one point. I’m not normal.”
“You most certainly are.”
“I don’t even know what that is. Not many people I know are completely normal. You’re not normal, you’re Saint Jessica.” She stood up. “I’m going to bed. I’ve worried you enough for one night.”
“Yes, you have.”
“But you’re already trying to find a solution. Or should I say cure?”
“Why haven’t you talked to me like this before? Why tonight?”
“I was going to slide out of it again because I love you and I want you to respect me. But I was thinking about Cassie as I was sitting here. I may be selfish, but I can’t hide what I am if it means Cassie dying.” She soberly met her sister’s gaze. “Next time, it will be worse. You have to find a way to break the stream. Find a way to enter something new into the mix. Anything to jar her out of the dream.”
“How the hell can I—”
“I don’t know. You’re the shrink.” She headed for the front door. “Just do it.”
“Mellie.”
She looked over her shoulder.
“Is that why you came home? Were you having dreams about Cassie?”
“No.” She looked away as she opened the door. “I had no dreams about—with Cassie before tonight.”
“You should have stayed away longer,” Teresa said when Jessica walked into the room. “You needed it.”
“How is she?”
“No different.” Teresa stood up. “I’m going to go down and have a cup of coffee and then I’m coming back and sending you to bed. You’re beginning to look like one of your own patients.”
“I’m okay.” It was a lie. She was definitely not okay. She was exhausted and so scared, she felt sick to her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she was more frightened for Cassie or Melissa. The child was lost, but her sister, who she’d thought was whole again, might be spiraling downward.
Yet Melissa had been perfectly coherent. But how many patients had Jessica treated who’d seemed absolutely sane except when in the middle of an episode?
Melissa was sane. She was just . . .
What?
She leaned back in the chair with a sigh. She didn’t need this additional worry. That any kind of mental joining had occurred was completely unacceptable. It offended logic. Whatever had happened tonight was as simple as the premise she’d offered Melissa.
She covered Cassie’s hand with her own. “You’ve got to come back soon. The nightmares are hurting you. I thought we could wait, but it’s . . . Come out of the tunnel, baby. You’ll be so much happier, I promise. You’ll see your mama and daddy and they’ll be—”
Tunnel? Where had that come from?