Page 198 of In Somnis

She sees me and stops so abruptly that Derek walks into her shoulder from behind and has to catch himself on the doorframe. She looks at me, and all I can do is take her in. I register the shadows under her eyes that weren’t there two days ago, the set of her jaw, and the fact that she is here, at the Vaughn house, at eight in the morning, having apparently spent the intervening two days making plans that involve lucid dreaming and Derek Wells.

Her hand is still in his sleeve.

“Paul? What are you doing here?”

What am I doing here?

“Working.” I keep my voice level. “I had a session this morning.”

“With…” A pause, the pieces assembling behind her eyes. “Tessa?”

I hold her gaze, and there are things I don’t discuss outside this house, professional lines I keep without having to think about it, but she’s looking at me with something that isn’t only surprise.

I find I don’t want to be clinical with her right now, so I nod once.

She starts to nod, too, and I realize she’s doing the same thing I just did, finding the thread that connects things. Her scent has been faintly in Tessa’s room, something I hadn’t thought about. I hadn’t let myself think about it.

My gaze travels from Derek to Lennon’s hand still wrapped in his sleeve.

She follows my movement and lets go.

“Tessa is my best friend,” she starts, and I can hear her shifting into the ramble. “And this is Derek, who is her⁠—”

“I know Derek.” I produce a smile from somewhere and extend my hand. “Hey.”

Derek takes it, his grip steady, his eyes moving between us with the attentiveness of a man who has walked into a room where the air has a history he wasn’t briefed on. “Paul.”

Lennon looks between us. “You know each other?”

“Small town,” I say.

“It is,” Derek agrees.

She looks between us, and I can see her brain working through it. “We wanted to visit Tessa.”

“Right. Now might not be the best time. Her doctor is coming by soon.”

“Oh.” Her expression dims. “Okay.”

Derek clears his throat. “I’ll call Melanie’s grandparents. Tell them I can take her after all.” He steps back out onto the front step, phone already coming out of his pocket, and pulls the door mostly closed behind him.

The hallway settles, our eyes locked on each other. I’m aware that I have approximately thirty seconds before one of us says something that determines the next several days, and I would very much like it to be the right thing.

I open my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts while her cheeks turn pink. “I’ve been pushing you away.”

“You have,” I agree.

“I got scared.”

“I thought you might.”

She exhales through her nose. “You thought…” She stops. “Of course, you did.”

“I’m a psychologist. Pattern recognition is something of a professional hazard.”

The corner of her mouth moves, almost against her will. “That’s very annoying.”