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“I’m meeting with Ms. Gallagher presently. May I share these results?” He waited a few seconds and then set the receiver back in its cradle. When he walked back over to me, he pulled his chair slightly closer before making notes on the pad he held in his hand.
He cleared his throat. “There is good news I can share with you.”
“Go on.”
“The MRI and CT scan indicate your brain is healing rapidly. Better than might have been expected.”
“But?”
He shook his head. “The other good news is that nothing showed up to suggest there is a medical reason for your amnesia to continue.”
“That doesn’t sound like good news.”
“It is. It means the ‘snippets,’ as you called them, will likely increase in regularity and, as your brain continues to heal, the details of your memories should become more and more clear.”
I wished I felt as happy as the smile on his face suggested he was. Instead, I was filled with a terrible sense of foreboding.
13
Smoke
I loaded several bags of women’s clothing into the back of the SUV and read the text I received from Siren’s nurse stating she was currently meeting with Dr. Mansfield.
With each day that passed, I watched Siren become increasingly sullen. While it was to be expected, what I didn’t want was for her to sink into a bottomless depression. Whether her memory returned or not, or how quickly it happened if it did, she’d have to find a way to manage her emotions.
Before starting the engine, I called Hammer.
“How’s Siren?” he asked.
I filled him in on the tests the doctor had ordered for her. “I called to thank you for making the connection with the psychiatrist.”
“I’m glad that’s working out.”
“She’s with him now.”
“What about you?”
“I’m headed back there shortly.”
“That isn’t what I meant. Are you talking to Mansfield too?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Smoke. This wouldn’t be easy for anyone to navigate.”
“I’m managing.”
“Keep me posted.” Hammer ended the call, leaving me sitting in the SUV, vacillating between thinking my friend was a pansy-assed pain in my neck or one of the best friends I had. I appreciated that he didn’t press me further; if I chose to talk to the psychiatrist, that would be my business.
* * *
I drove up in front of the medical complex and saw Siren and Maureen waiting at a table in a courtyard. When I got out, they stood and walked toward me. The look on Siren’s face troubled me.
I looked at her nurse, who shook her head.
“Dr. Taylor asked us to come in at one,” said Siren.
I looked at my watch. We had a little over two hours. “How about an early lunch?”
