The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(31)

We’re driving back from Margret and Mark’s funeral. We haven’t spoken most of the way. We have never seen Lucy this upset.

“Please talk to me, hon,” we say, trying to break the heavy silence.

“I was the one who found the bodies,” Lucy says, her voice unrecognizable. “And I did the most thorough sweep of the crime scene. And with all that, I have nothing. It’s like a perfect, unsolvable crime from one of your detective stories. I can’t take it. I owe it to Mark to find the f*cker who did this . . .”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” we say. “You’ll figure it out. If you can’t, no one could.”

“We should have moved,” Lucy says.

She hits a weak spot—our own guilt. We wish we had told Mark and Margret not to come to New York for that first year, not if they were in that much danger. But we didn’t tell them that. We could’ve offered to come to California for a year. Something. The biggest source of our guilt, though, is that we thought the M&Ms were crazy. We didn’t delve deeper into their story because it led to the most miraculous result—Darren. But now that Mark and Margret are dead, they are vindicated. We don’t think they were crazy anymore. We just feel horrible for doubting them and not preventing this disaster somehow.

I, Darren, officially can’t take any more. I jump out of Sara’s head.



*



I’m back in the Quiet, looking at Sara. Much of my anger has dissipated. How can I be angry after I just experienced how this woman feels about me? I feel a pang of guilt for having invaded my mother’s privacy to get the truth, but it’s over and done with now.

I walk toward myself and touch my elbow.

Though I’m out of the Quiet, Sara is still pretty much motionless, waiting for my reaction.

“I don’t know what to say,” I say truthfully.

“It’s okay. It’s a lot to process,” Lucy says.

“You think?” I say unkindly, and immediately regret it when she winces.

“I’m sorry it took us so long to tell you,” Sara says, looking guilty.

“Even today, you told me under duress,” I say, unable to resist. I guess I still feel bitter about that—about being kept in the dark for so long.

“I guess that’s true,” Sara admits. “Like Lucy said, we had a hard time talking about this for years. Once you don’t talk about something, it becomes this strange taboo. But if you didn’t already know, what were you asking about before?” She gives me a puzzled look.

“Never mind that now,” I say. No way am I ready to spout some crazy talk about being part of a secret group of people who can freeze time and get into the minds of others. I was only going to bring that up when I thought Sara was a Reader herself. “The most important thing is that what you told me doesn’t change anything for me.”

I know from just Reading her mind that this is what she most wants to hear. I mean it, too. Yes, I’m mad and confused now, but I know with time what I just said will be one hundred percent true. It will be as though this adoption conversation never happened.

For those words, I’m rewarded by the expressions of relief on their faces.

“If you don’t mind, I want to go home right now. I need to digest all this,” I tell them. This is riskier. I know they would rather I stay and hang out. But I really am beyond exhaustion at this point.

“Sure,” Sara says, but I can tell she’s disappointed.

“We’re here to answer any questions you might have,” Lucy says. Her expression is harder to read.

Lucy is right. I might have questions later. But for now, I kiss and hug them before getting out of there as quickly as I can.

The drive to Tribeca happens as if in a dream. I only become cognizant of the actual mechanics of it when I start wondering where to park. Parking in the city is a huge pain, and is the reason I don’t own a car. I opt for one of the paid parking lots, despite having to pay something outrageous for it tomorrow. Right now, I don’t care. Anything to get home.

Once I get to my apartment, all I have the energy to do is eat and shower. After that, I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.





Chapter 14


It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do for the psyche. As I’m eating my morning oatmeal, I see the events and revelations of the prior day in a brand-new light. Even the adoption thing seems like something I can deal with.

I try to put myself in my moms’ shoes. Let’s say my friend Bert told me a strange secret. Let’s further suppose he asked me not to tell it to anyone, and then died. Surely that would count as sort of like someone’s dying wish. And as such, it would undoubtedly be hard to reveal the secret in those circumstances. Could that be part of the reason for my moms’ lack of communication?

Now that I’m more rested, I also realize another aspect of my new situation: I might have some family I’ve never met. Grandmothers and grandfathers I didn’t know existed. Maybe uncles and cousins. All of these new family members are probably out there in the mysterious Reader community. It’s too bad Eugene and Mira are not part of said community. If they were, I would have a way of getting introduced to other Readers. Maybe I’d even meet my extended family and learn more about my heritage.