The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(30)

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We’re excited Darren is going to visit.

I, Darren, feel ashamed somehow at the intensity of Sara’s enthusiasm. If it makes her so happy, I should probably visit more often.

We’re devastated at having the dreaded adoption conversation with Darren, after all these years. Our own little family secret. Before I, Darren, am naturally pushed out by getting to the present moment in Sara’s memories, I decide to go deeper. Picturing being lighter, trying to focus, I fall further in.

We’re watching Darren pack for Harvard. We’re beyond anxious. I, Darren, realize that I am not far enough and focus on going deeper.

We’re on a date with Lucy. She’s the coolest girl we have ever met. I, Darren, realize how creepy this thing I am doing can get, but I also know that I can’t stop. I overshot my target memory mark and need to go back out of this depth, or in other words, fast-forward the memories. I, Darren, do what I tried before when I wanted to get deeper into someone’s mind, only in reverse: I picture myself heavier. It works.

We’ve been obsessing about Israel for months. Our heritage must call us, as our mom Rose said. I, Darren, realize that Rose is Grandma and that I am close—and I jump a bit further this time by picturing myself heavier again.

We’re in Israel. It’s awesome. Even Lucy’s initial grumpy ‘there are almost no other Asians here’ attitude gets turned around after spending a day at the beach.

We look around the beach. The view is breathtaking. I, Darren, make a note to visit this place someday.

“Hi guys,” says a familiar male voice.

We’re shocked to see the M&Ms, Mark and Margret, approach our chairs. So is Lucy, we bet. What could they possibly be doing here, in Israel? The last thing anyone expects when going overseas is to meet friends from New York.

I, Darren, see them, and Sara’s surprise pales next to mine. It’s not like they look exactly like me, Darren. But it’s almost like some Photoshop genius took their facial features, mixed them up, added a few random ones, and got the familiar face that, I, Darren, see every day in the mirror.

“What are you doing here?” Lucy asks, looking concerned.

“We need to talk,” Mark says. “But not here.”

I, Darren, picture feeling heavy again, so I can jump forward a little more.

We’re listening to the M&Ms’ crazy tale.

“Who’s after you? If you don’t tell me, how am I supposed to help?” Lucy says in frustration after they’re done. We feel the same way. We can’t believe our friends are springing this on us and telling us next to nothing.

“Don’t ask me that, Lucy. If I told you, I’d put you and, by extension, the unborn child in danger,” Mark says. I, Darren, realize that his voice is deep, a lot like the voice I hear on my voicemail. My voice.

“But what about you?” we say, looking at Margret. “How will you be able to go through with this?”

Margret, who has been very quiet through this conversation, begins crying, and we feel like a jerk.

“Margie and I are both willing to do whatever it takes to make sure our child lives,” Mark says for her. “Regardless of how much it hurts us to distance ourselves this way.”

“So you won’t come back to New York?” Lucy asks. That’s our girl, always the detective, trying to put every piece together.

He shakes his head. “My resignation is already prepared. We’ll stay in Israel until the baby is born, then come back to New York for the first year of the baby’s life to help you guys, and then we’ll move to California. We hope you can come visit us in California once the baby is older. Tell her—or him—that we’re old friends.” Mark’s voice breaks.

“But this makes no sense,” Lucy says, echoing our thoughts. “If you’re going to quit and move anyway, the child should be safe enough—”

“No,” Mark says. “Moving barely mitigates the risk. The people who want us dead can reach us anywhere. Please don’t interrogate me, Lucy. Just think how wonderful it would be to have a child. Weren’t you guys always planning to adopt?”

“We couldn’t think of better people to trust with this,” Margret says. “Please, help us.”

We think she’s trying to convince herself of her decision. We can’t even imagine how she must be feeling.

“We’ll pay for everything,” Mark says, changing the subject.

We’re in complete agreement with Lucy’s objections to the money, but in the end, the M&Ms convince us to accept their extremely generous offer—money we didn’t even know they had. We know what Mark’s approximate salary range is, since he works with Lucy, and he can’t be making that much more than she is. To someone with that salary, this kind of money is unheard of. Nor is it likely that Margret makes that much. We wonder if having so much money has something to do with the paranoid story of people coming after them.

I, Darren, however, don’t think it’s the money. Could it be the Pushers? After all, Pushers killed Mira and Eugene’s family. Could they be behind killing mine? Learning more about Pushers becomes much more personal for me all of a sudden.

I, Darren, can’t take any more of this unfolding tragedy. I might come back here someday, but I can’t handle it right now. Still, like a masochist, I progress into the memories.