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But Max is nowhere to be seen.
Dr. Fredrickson glances around, then approaches one of the nurses.
“Excuse me. Nurse Mathews, but have you seen Ms. Morgan?”
“She went out to the courtyard a little while ago, Doctor. She shouldn’t be long.”
“Thank you,” he says before leading me toward a wall of windows overlooking the garden.
It takes but a second for me to find her.
Max is sitting alone on a wooden bench beneath a tree as she stares at the empty space beside her. The sky has turned a miserable shade of gray, and a light drizzle has begun to fall, speckling her hair and shoulders.
Dr. Fredrickson frowns.
“Oh, dear. I’ll have someone bring her inside.” He raises a hand to get the attention of a nearby orderly.
“Wait.” I stop him when I see something peculiar.
Max’s head is tilted slightly to one side, and although I can’t hear what she’s saying through the glass, I can definitely see her lips moving. I think she’s even… smiling.
“She does that sometimes,” Dr. Fredrickson explains. “Several members of staff have noticed her talking to herself when she’s alone. I’ve tried asking her about it during our one-on-one sessions, but she hasn’t been particularly forthcoming.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I simply watch as she continues smiling at the empty space beside her.
“Do you believe in soulmates, Doctor?” I ask softly, never looking away from my best friend.
He looks at me, clearly caught off guard by the question.
“Well, from a scientific standpoint, there’s no empirical evidence to suggest that—”
“Yeah. Me neither,” I interject before he can launch into a lecture. “I never believed in any of that crap myself,” I continue, keeping my eyes on Max. “Love. Soulmates. Two people supposedly destined to find each other. Always sounded like a load of bullshit to me.”
Dr. Fredrickson raises his eyebrows at my choice of words, but I ignore it.
“Except I probably have more reason than most to believe in soulmates. Because I’ve spent most of my life watching two people prove me wrong for ever doubting their existence.”
Dr. Fredrickson looks thoroughly confused.
“I’m sorry, Agent Hartley, but I’m not quite sure I follow your reasoning.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I press my lips together. “Though you’re wrong about one thing.”
“I’m wrong? About what?”
“About Max.”
He glances toward the courtyard, his attention back on his patient.
“In what regard?”
“She’s not talking to herself.”
He waits for me to elaborate.
“She’s talking to Milo.”
“Who?”
