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LIE
LIE
LIE
LIE
LIE
LIE
LIE
LIE
LIE
LIE
LIE
LIE
Lie?My palms immediately clam up in a sweaty panic. Who’s sending me these texts? I don’t recognize the number.
Who is this?I text back.
Message undeliverable.
“That light just went on,” Tom says, pointing to the call light next to the door, alerting me that my next patient has arrived, even though my next session isn’t supposed to start for forty minutes.
“Do you have another patient now?” Tom asks.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I think there might’ve been a mix-up with scheduling today. I’ll be right back.”
I leave my office, confused by the texts and the call light. A police officer stands by himself in the waiting area.
“Are you Dr. Bennett?” he asks me.
My heart pounds like I’ve done something wrong, even though I haven’t done anything.
“Yes …” I say.
“Detective Thompson,” he says, showing me his badge. “Do you have a minute?”
“I’m in the middle of a session now.”
“It’s important,” he says. “Based on street camera surveillance, apart from the janitorial staff, only two people entered this building before seven this morning. One of them was you, and the other was a young woman wearing a baseball cap …”
He’s here about the fake patient?
“Did you meet with her?” he asks pointedly, meeting my eyes and not letting go.
LIE, the texts said.
Is she the one that sent all those texts? Did she mean I’m supposed to lie to him about her being here, or what she told me about my Mom, or both? But how would she even know he’s here?
“I need to know what she said,” he presses.
