The Forgetting by G.H ARTHUR

Author:G.H ARTHUR
Language: eng
Format: epub

CHAPTER 9: THE DOCTOR'S QUESTIONS

Sloane doesn't open the journal. Not that day. Not the next. She carries it with her—to her apartment, back to the office, in her bag like it's a loaded weapon that might discharge at any moment—but she doesn't open it.

Instead, she schedules an emergency appointment with Dr. Mehta. She tells his service it's urgent. He calls back within an hour.

"I need to see you today," she says. "Before I do something I can't take back."

His voice on the phone is calm, professional, exactly the right tone for someone trained to de-escalate crisis without sounding patronizing. "Of course. Four o'clock? My office?"

It's 3:47 p.m. She's early. She's always early for important events—it gives her time to control the space, to position herself advantageously, to establish dominance before the other person arrives. But Dr. Mehta's waiting room isn't a space she can control. It's his space. It's designed to make you relinquish power.

She sits in one of the chairs and waits. The soft colors. The ambient sound. The carefully curated art. It all feels like a trap now, though it probably always was. She's just more aware of it.

At exactly four o'clock, Dr. Mehta opens the door to his inner office.

"Come in, Sloane," he says.

She follows him in. The leather chairs. The box of tissues. The bookshelf full of the architecture of human psychology. She sits and doesn't reach for the tissues.

"Tell me what's happening," Dr. Mehta says. He settles into his chair across from her with the particular ease of someone who's done this ten thousand times before. He has a notepad. He does not write on it yet.

"Dante came to see me," Sloane says. "He was waiting in my office building. We talked. He gave me a journal. In the journal, he allegedly documents what happened the night he disappeared."

Dr. Mehta's expression doesn't change, but something has shifted in his attention. She can feel it.

"And what does the journal say?" he asks.

"I haven't opened it yet."

"Why not?"

It's a simple question with complicated implications. Why hasn't she opened it? Because she's afraid of what it will say? Because she's afraid it will make her reconstruct her reality again? Because she's afraid that Dante's version of events will be more convincing than her own memory?

"Because I need to ask you something first," Sloane says. "I need to know if you know him. If you know Dante."

There's a pause. A very brief pause, but a pause nonetheless. In that pause, Sloane watches his face for the micro-expressions that indicate deception. She's been trained to read people. She's built her career on it.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Dr. Mehta says carefully. "You've told me about Dante. I know about him from what you've shared in our sessions. But I didn't know him before you came to me."

"Did you know him in college? Did you ever meet him?"

"Sloane, I'm not sure where this is coming from. Why would you think I knew Dante?"

"Because I'm starting to understand that I don't know what's real and what's been constructed," she says.

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