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Just then, Liam barges through the door. It doesn’t make any sense, because he isn’t supposed to be there in that library. He belongs in the future.
“Time means nothing,” he says. He sticks the gun to my head and he pulls the trigger.
“George,” Eve calls out. “Oh God, George.” She clasps one hand over her mouth, her words muffled, filtered as they come out. “Oh God, what have you done?”
It’s him, I try to say, but can’t because most of my face is blown off. He does bad things. I need her to understand, but I don’t think she ever does.
She opens her mouth to speak but all that comes out are screams.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I don’t remember being pulled from the fire. The last thing I recall was Liam putting the gun to my chin and firing. And Eve’s face. I remember that. I recall hearing the sirens. God, there were a lot of sirens.
Maybe there was Joni’s voice. I hear she’s the one who found us. My memory of the events of those early morning hours is questionable. My memory of most things is hazy.
There’s a lot of white in this place. It’s like a hospital, but different. Austin Lakes Hospital, they call it. All dressed up, it sounds fancy. Like a spa. Believe me, it isn’t.
The doctor comes in to see me. There are a lot of doctors here, but not like the kind in a real hospital. They don’t fix you. They only want to talk. This guy is new; I haven’t seen him before. At least I don’t think.
He sits across from me and studies me intently. He crosses and uncrosses his legs. He watches the door, like he’s running down the clock. When he does speak to me, it’s pointless. I can’t speak back.
But then, I suppose a lot of his patients are that way.
What I can do is chicken peck at keys, when I’m allowed, but even that is iffy. I have burns over seventy percent of my body, my fingers and hands included.
“Shall we get started?”
I would laugh if I had the part of my face required to do so. Him with his formalities. Him with his fancy pen. I don’t like the look of him. I don’t like the look of any of them. It’s a problem that can be remedied, unlike the rest of them. He probably won’t come around again.
He introduces himself by name. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but he looks like Liam. Same hair. Same funny clothes. I don’t want to see Liam in this place.
He’s everywhere.
Suddenly, I hear Eve’s voice. So he’s like a book doctor, then?
I don’t think it’s supposed to make me sad, but it does.
The doctor goes through the usual spiel, saying the same thing they always say. Eventually, he hands me a tablet so that I can type my answers. It says a lot about him, that he bothers to go through the motions. As though he’s changed his mind. He’s hopeful.
He’s determined that there will be answers.
He is wrong.
For a long time, they have tried. They keep asking me questions.
I have nothing to say.
Supposedly, Eve has told them enough.
“You have killed people, George,” he remarks solemnly. “Can you tell me what that’s like?”
My fingers twitch involuntarily. This question is one no one has asked. Maybe this is why I’m inclined to answer.
I type out, Liam. They always get this part wrong, and then I can’t talk to them anymore.
“You killed Liam?”
I tap the question mark key. I don’t know if I killed Liam. I don’t think I did. But then, a lot of what I once thought was true is now up for grabs.
