A World Without You(49)

“What about someone else? In what ways have your families influenced you?” The Doctor scans the room. “It’s not just about parents. What about siblings?” His eyes rest on me. “What about your sister, Bo? Siblings are often reflections of each other. Maybe you’re so quiet because she’s boisterous at home?” He says this in a jovial tone, as if we have some sort of inside joke together. But he couldn’t be more wrong. Phoebe, boisterous? Hardly. Phoebe’s emotions are measured out carefully, like Mom when she’s measuring flour for a recipe, scraping off the top of the fluffy white powder to have exactly the right amount in the cup.

The Doctor tries again. “Or has she influenced your life in some way?”

“She hasn’t,” I say.

“Oh, I find that hard to believe.” The Doctor moves across the circle toward me. “Growing up, I had a younger brother. I think in a lot of ways, siblings help define each other. My brother was good at sports, so I focused on academics. I may not have become a doctor if it hadn’t been for him.”

Sure, there are differences between Phoebe and me. That’s about all there is between us.

“Do you think there’s some aspect of your sister that is a reflection of you? Maybe something she does helps you define yourself, maybe the way she sees the world has helped define reality for you.”

I sit up straighter at that. Whether he meant to or not, Dr. Franklin actually gave me an idea. Last night, I saw her there. I saw her on the Titanic with me, as kids. She was there. She’s my proof.

“Yeah, I guess,” I say so that the Doctor looks away from me and focuses on Gwen instead. I watch the government officials as I lean back and surreptitiously pull out my cell phone, scrolling through my contacts until I find Pheebs’s number.

Hey, I text her.

The little waiting icon flashes, and it feels like forever until she texts me back. Bo?

Yeah. I glance around me. The Doctor frowns at my cell phone and shakes his head slightly, reprimanding me. I pretend to put it away, but thankfully Harold starts rambling about how he misses his little sister, and the Doc’s attention shifts.

Gotta ask u smthg, I text quickly.

What?

I do another quick scan of the room; all eyes are on Harold.

Remember when we were kids? I text. Remember the Titanic?

I watch the waiting icon on my screen, not daring to breathe. If Phoebe remembers going back to the Titanic with me, she’ll confirm everything: my powers, the true purpose of Berkshire, the altered videos.

Yeah, she texts back, ofc.

Of course. Of course she remembers.

That’s how I broke my arm, she adds, the words popping up on the screen. But it was cool.

I breathe a sigh of relief. It was real. Whatever—whoever—is altering everyone’s perception of reality . . . it’s centered here, at the academy.

When I look up from my phone, the room is silent. Harold’s rambling had stopped without my noticing, and the government officials’ eyes are glued on me. Dr. Rivers glares at me, and I shudder under her intense look.

“Bo, put away your phone,” the Doctor says. “You know better.”

I start to click the screen off, but I can’t get over the weird way Dr. Rivers is staring at me. Just before my phone darkens, I glance down at the message. Phoebe’s words, But it was cool, fade. I blink. Before my eyes, they change: But it was just a game.

“No,” I gasp, staring down at the altered text.

“Bo,” Dr. Franklin says again, a note of warning in his voice. “Your phone.”

Dr. Rivers is still staring at me, her eyes dark and unfocused. When I shove my phone in my pocket, I can’t help but notice the way she smirks at me.

? ? ?

I yank out my cell phone the second the Doctor dismisses us. I stare at that last word from Phoebe, game. Is it my cell phone that’s showing me a false message, or did Phoebe change somehow? If I were to go to her right now, would she remember the Titanic, or would she think we were playing pretend?

“I’m glad to see you’ve recovered after your late-night wanderings,” Dr. Rivers says, stepping beside me.

I cram my phone back in my pocket. “What are you doing?” I growl.

“Mr. Minh and I will be observing your classes today,” she says sweetly, holding the classroom door open for the rest of the unit and me. Her eyes mock me; she knows very well what I meant.

The officials sit in the back of the classroom as Ms. Okafor teaches us math. They watch silently as Mr. Ingle passes out copies of The Catcher in the Rye for us to read. My eyes skim across the page.

I glance over at Gwen. She’s already on chapter two of the book. I turn the page, even though I have no idea what’s written on it.

My phone weighs heavily in my pocket. I hate the idea of the officials doing something to mess with Phoebe’s head. I hope it was just the text that changed and not her. I never wanted to drag my family into this.





CHAPTER 32




The next morning, the officials are in Dr. Franklin’s office with the door closed. Even though it’s time for our session to start, we’re stuck in the hallway, waiting.

“How much longer are they going to be here?” Ryan asks.

“Why don’t they just go?” My voice holds more anger than I’d intended, but I don’t really care.