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  The doctor let a moment pass. He wasn’t so bad, I conceded.

  Then I looked at him and saw he was taking notes.

  “Let me explain to you, Nolan, why your father treated you in the way that he did.”

  This should be good, I thought.

  Dr. Vance continued, “Did you know that your mother left him shortly after you were born?”

  A breath of air caught in my chest. I was shocked. Dad never mentioned his wife, my mom. When I asked questions about her, he simply started to loosen his belt. Let’s just say I stopped asking.

  “That’s…that’s still no excuse,” I mumbled.

  The doctor went on. “You’re right, Nolan. You see, people react to certain experiences in a multitude of ways. What I mean to say is that the mind is a fragile thing.”

  I knew exactly what he was talking about. I had experienced it daily.

  Jotting down some more on his pad, the doctor spoke again. “When the mind becomes broken, that imbalance can have various outcomes. If I may stay on the topic of your father’s case, he tapped into what we will call a ‘dark place.’” He used his fingers as quotation marks.

  I wasn’t shocked this time, but curious.

  “Serial killers, rapists, terrorists, evildoers in these cases act out physically and aggressively. But to simplify it further, he tapped into this dark place when he gained knowledge he didn’t previously have.”

  Dr. Vance waited a moment and let me soak it in. I finished the thought for him.

  “The knowledge that my mom was leaving him, right?”

  “Exactly,” he said, smiling at me. “Nolan, love can be a powerful thing, but it can also be a very destructive thing. I don’t want to spread out too far, and I don’t want to divulge information that is your father’s right to give you.”

  Now I was even more curious and confused. I let him continue.

  “Having been left by your mother, who was your father’s soul mate, and left alone to raise you, he began to experience new feelings. This information and change in status quo broke him.” The doctor swallowed. “Nolan, please understand. I tell you this in hope of discovering the final truth.”

  I nodded, following along.

  “Struck by this new, powerful knowledge, your father tapped into this dark place and was abusive to you because of it. And may I speak plainly and again say that it was not right to do. Yet it’s my belief that something cracked further in his mindset that led him to become irrational and out of control, and without professional help, it went to extremes—his mind, in the end, obviously shutting down completely.”

  Although this was Dr. Vance’s “professional” evaluation, there was something he was missing. I knew it.

  “When people are dealt an extreme change in their normalcy, be it with words or an action, the mind can become a destructive place.”

  That statement made me sit upright, tears welling in my eyes. Everything was becoming way too much for me to handle. A tiny thought exploded in my mind, and I was instantly overcome with one realization: Everything I’d ever done in my secret-sharing business may have set in motion destructive tendencies in those people.

  The most recent being Stephanie Daniels. A wash of guilt came over me, and I felt myself go lifeless. I felt as if I were going to be sick.

  “Nolan, are you all right?” the doctor asked.

  I answered without thinking. “I think I’m leading people to their dark place.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  MY EYES CAUGHT THE clock that hung on the wall behind Dr. Vance. It read ten minutes after seven. I was late to my meeting with Kate!

  I cussed out loud and stood. This was becoming too much.

  “Wait a moment; I’d like to talk more.” The doctor’s tone was clearly a mixture of intrigue and frustration. “Please, tell me what you mean. Tell me what you are feeling.”

  Standing up next to me, the doctor reached out and grabbed my arm. I turned, looked him sharply in the eye, and entered his mind.

  I was instantly transported to a tiny library with nothing but shelves of books. I felt upset, exhausted, and confused.

  What was this guy up to? I wanted answers.

  Walking to the nearest wooden shelf, I began scanning the spines of the volumes, tearing at them, tossing them on the vacant floor behind me. Some were titled with emotions, others had names of places on them, and still others had people’s names. It dawned on me. I had to find Dad’s name.

  The books weren’t in order, so I continued to throw them haphazardly. I was through half of the first shelf when I found it. Dad’s book. The title was just his name, “Jacob Day.” I was shocked but glad that I had come across it so quickly.

  Lifting the black cover, I hadn’t even begun to read it when something pushed me off my feet and I flew across the room, slamming against another bookshelf. Dad’s book was no longer in my hands. My shoulder ached, but I spotted the book again and stood to get it. I was pushed to the floor again. My breathing began to quicken.

  What was going on?

  Keeping my eyes trained on the book, I bolted to it like a track star. I had to know what was inside. A creaking noise sounded and the bookshelf nearest me tipped, spilling all its books onto the floor. I avoided getting smashed, but tripped backward and fell to the ground.

  “No!” I yelled. Then I felt it. Something was behind me, another presence. Whirling around, I saw that it was Dr. Vance, but then again, it wasn’t him. His skin was pasty white, and the deep black eyes and sharp teeth were the same as I’d seen on Stephanie in her mind.

  He stood over me, almost looking proud. Then with clawed fingers, he reached for me.

  As quickly as I could, I broke contact.

  In a flash I was back in the Mitchells’ living room. I was whole, still alive. I checked the clock. Not even a second had passed. Doctor Vance still had his hand gripped on my arm and was shouting demands.

  “You have to talk to me.” His voice sounded strained now. As pain surged into my arm, he pulled me in closer. I watched his eyes grow large as if they were about to jump out of their sockets. His body shook and he spoke again, this time almost a whisper in my ear.

  “We’ve … found … you.”

  “Let him go.” It was Dean’s voice now. I turned to him as he began to walk toward us. The doctor seemingly realized he was clenching my arm, released me, and moved back, adjusting his tie.

  Dean, car keys in hand, stepped between the two of us and ushered me to the front door. Then I saw Rick, his hand resting on his gun belt. He was still there; he had never left.

  “Go on, boys. I’ll see that the doctor here leaves.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  RIDING IN DEAN’S CAR, I felt as if I were in a haze. I rolled down the passenger window and let the cool night air hit my face. It reminded me I wasn’t dreaming. Dean and I drove in silence for a while.

  “Thanks,” I said, finally finding my voice.

  Dean nodded.

  “I had a feeling he was bad news, so I asked my dad to stick around and step in if anything went crazy.”

  “Crazy isn’t half of it. There’s a lot more to it than that,” I said.

  Dean’s Dodge Intrepid gunned along Memorial Avenue almost as fast as I began to yammer, filling Dean in on everything that had happened up to Dr. Vance’s strange visit.

  “Whoa, wait a second.” Dean turned the car stereo down to make sure he had heard me right. Keeping his eyes on the road and attention to traffic, he tried to straighten out the facts.

  “Okay, so you’re saying there is something inside minds now? Could it just be a projection of themselves or something?”

  I waved my hands as if I were an umpire for one of Dean’s games, calling a player safe.

  “No, no, it’s definitely not them. It’s something else, wearing their skin.” I tried to think, but my head was blurry. “Man, I don’t know what happened. It was all so fast.”

  I ran my hand through my hair, starting to
question what I had seen. Dean changed lanes and turned on his signal to enter the mall’s parking lot.

  “Hopefully Kate can figure it out,” I said, my thoughts moving into words.

  “Kate knows?” Dean took his attention off traffic and looked at me.

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry, I must have left that part out.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her everything,” I said simply.

  Dean’s mouth was still ajar. “Everything, everything?”

  I winced like I was going to get hit by a baseball bat and answered, “Yeah.”

  Dean blew out a big breath of air and let his shoulders sag, his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

  “Why didn’t you run this by me first?” he said, shaking his head. I hadn’t expected him to say that.

  “I didn’t think I had to,” I said, turning a bit defensive.

  Dean blew out another breath of frustration. “Okay. I guess that was your choice.” He sounded annoyed and strangely upset. I thought he’d give up then, but he pressed further. “Did she believe you?”

  I nodded.

  The Dodge slid into a parking space underneath a yellow industrial lamppost marked Row 8. Dean killed the ignition and leaned back in his seat, rubbing his face.

  “This is heavy, man,” he said.

  I released my seatbelt.

  Dean was concerned, and I couldn’t tell if it was because I’d told Kate my secret or if he was still fuming about Dr. Vance.

  “Tell me about it,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. I rolled up the window and grabbed for the door handle.

  “Wait, Nolan.” Dean reached over and held me back. “Look, man, I heard what you were saying in the family room.”

  I had figured as much. It was still fresh in my mind as well—even more reason I had to fill Dean in on everything.

  “Whatever it takes, man,” he said. “I … I can get you help. You and I will figure this out.” His words were optimistic, but he sounded defeated by the information I’d just unloaded on him.

  I immediately agreed, but I wanted to make it clear that I trusted Kate and added, “You mean the three of us.”

  It was true. Now two people knew about my strange—heh, uncanny—power.

  I was about to find out they weren’t the only ones.

  Chapter Thirty

  SCHOFIELD MALL HAD YOUR basic stores, nothing fancy, and that was a good thing because my wallet didn’t speak fancy. It being a Friday night, the mall was pretty packed. I could only assume that most of the young patrons were all getting last-minute items for tomorrow night’s dance as well.

  Dean and I had both told the girls we would meet them in the food court. Dean agreed to keep my secret between the now three of us and suggested we play it normal around Celia. Like I even knew the meaning of normal.

  I have never been a mallrat or liked the idea of shopping. It just wasn’t my thing. I’d never had a lot of stuff to begin with, and generally, anything I ever actually wanted cost more than what Uncanny, Inc. could pay out.

  Dean and I passed a cell-phone kiosk and a sign displaying new, lower rates. A cell phone was something I’d say I wanted most of all. I could probably manage the monthly payments, but how would I explain that to the Mitchells? I couldn’t keep up that kind of lie, not to them. Even if getting a phone made good business sense so clients could get in touch with me.

  Then it dawned on me again. The words of Dr. Vance and the “dark place.” Was he right? Heck, was my theory right? Was I leading people to their dark place?

  As my mind battled each side of the argument, I was shoved hard from behind. The new momentum turned my next few steps into stumbles.

  I caught myself and whipped my head around to face my attacker. From the events of the last couple of days, I had grown edgy and didn’t know what to expect anymore, but this I should have known. Trent stood, arms spread, taunting me, goons at both sides, and his broken smile on his face.

  “What up, fellas?” he asked as Dean turned around as well. I could tell he was set to start throwing fists if need be, although we were at the mall—a public place—and I doubted Trent would try anything. Then again, I still hadn’t quite figured Trent out yet.

  “Come on, Nolan.” Dean knew better and pulled on my arm.

  “Still hanging around with this guy, huh?” Trent thumbed toward Dean. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  I raised my hands in peace, taking after Dean and not wanting to start anything, but Trent’s riddle still echoed in my head. Was he just messing with me?

  “Nolan, come on,” Dean’s said, his voice demanding.

  Trent flashed another crooked smile and squinted at me as if he knew something I didn’t. Dean was pulling me back now, so I was unable get a good lock on Trent’s crazy eyes.

  Fighting free of Dean’s restraint, I stepped a foot closer to Trent. Just needed to be a little closer and I’d be able to make eye contact—or throw a connecting punch, if need be.

  “Do it,” Trent whispered to me. His prompt jerked my thoughts to a halt. What did he want? I noticed dark rings around Trent’s slits-for-eyes. Something was off about him.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Dean stepped in front of me and got in my face, blocking me.

  “All I need is a fraction of a second, Dean,” I said out of the side of my mouth.

  “Nope. It’s not going to happen,” he said, unmoved.

  I had to know what was going on. Why was Dean resisting so much? Why did he even care? I wanted to know what Trent was getting at.

  “Gentlemen,” a hearty voice called out to the group of us.

  Mall security. Crap.

  The guard had one hand resting on a Taser and the other fingers tapping a nightstick. Behind him stood another guard, taller, but with the same intent if things went south.

  Trent and his posse turned first and headed the opposite way. Dean didn’t even give the Rent-a-Cops a sideways glance. He was still dead set on me.

  “Move,” he said. And I did, but didn’t like it.

  Dean and I walked again in silence until we got to the escalator that took us to the second level.

  “You shouldn’t let him get to you,” he offered, now sounding more cool and collected than before.

  I pretended I didn’t hear him and spoke my thoughts. “What’s the deal with you and Trent?” It was Dean’s turn to clam up. I didn’t let the question drop and asked again.

  “Trent and I. We’ve got history,” Dean finally said.

  I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Who doesn’t? The guy’s a jerk to everybody in school.”

  Dean shook his head. “No, not like that.”

  “Then what?” I asked.

  Dean looked at me and then away. “Remember that foster kid I told you about who had been staying with us and burned down our house?”

  To say the least, I was shocked as it all sank in. The escalator deposited us on the second floor.

  I stayed with the conversation, but felt guilty doing so. “Trent was the one who burned down your house?” I stabbed a thumb over my shoulder to indicate the dispute we had just come from.

  Dean was silent. I took it for a difficult yes.

  “Hey, man, I’m sorry. He’s just …” I stammered a bit, still trying to collect my thoughts. “Bro, I didn’t know.”

  Dean shook his head. “Nobody does,” he said and made a face that seemed as though he had been wounded.

  “I get it now. I’ll steer clear of him.” I understood how much a certain individual could hurt someone else. My dad had been my Trent. Playing terrorist in my life. Plaguing my existence. I just had no clue Trent had been that for Dean. Dean was always so easygoing that you’d never have known anything was bothering him. Yet, even Dean had secrets.

  His face brightened back to life as his eyes caught something.

  “This secret stays between just you and me, got it?” he said. I looked ahead and saw Celia waving at us from a table in the food
court.

  I nodded. “Don’t worry. I’m the only mind reader in town.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  THAT UNDENIABLE FRIED-GREASE smell over took my senses and made my mouth fill with the taste for a double cheeseburger. I hadn’t been hungry before, but now I felt as though I had gone days without food.

  Celia popped up from her seat and almost danced over to Dean and me as we arrived in the food court. She was a cute girl, I’d give her that, but she was a little too bubbly for me. I tended to lean toward a more geeky girl who had freckles on her nose.

  Speaking of, as I scanned other tables in the food court, I couldn’t find Kate. I pointed my attention back to Celia. “Hey, have you seen Kate Huddy?”

  She unglued her eyes from Dean and answered, “Nope.” Then she was back at him.

  I kept searching, my stomach still growling. “I’m going to get something to eat,” I announced.

  “Grab me something,” Dean chimed in.

  What is it with guys and food courts—well, food in general? We’re bottomless pits.

  Surveying my options, I spotted just the place. Slider’s Haven. I just about ran over a little kid who scooted his chair out in front of me. Quickly flanking to my right, I avoided the collision, but stayed on track toward my destination.

  I stepped behind a portly guy who obviously had the same state of mind I did and could do nothing but stare at the glistening photos on the menu board.

  “Careful, you don’t want to drool,” came a voice behind me.

  I turned to find Kate.

  “How could you eat at a time like this?” she asked.

  “Hey, how could you not eat at a time like this?”

  She rolled her eyes in Huddy fashion, and although I’d seen it about a million times, something was different now between us. I didn’t feel tense and guarded toward her.

  “You want something?” I asked, fishing money out of my wallet. In the back of my mind I hoped I had grabbed enough out of the business fund to cover sliders and fries as well as a decent outfit for the dance.