An Anonymous Girl(108)

I tried to use the lessons she taught me to trap her tonight. She outmaneuvered me even before I began.

But now I realize it isn’t over, because I’ve finally pinpointed her weak spot: Thomas. He’s the key to undoing her.

My breathing is shallow; a rushing noise fills my head.

I need to think several steps ahead, like she always does. I know that no matter how we answer, Dr. Shields is never going to turn him in; she needs to find a way to blame this on me. Just like she probably did with April to justify giving her the Vicodin.

I was the one under scrutiny by Dr. Shields from the moment I entered her study, but I’ve been scrutinizing her all along, too. I know so much more about her than I realized—everything from the way she walks down a street to what she keeps in her refrigerator and, more important, how her mind operates.

Will it be enough?

“Time’s up,” Dr. Shields announces. “Thomas, would you join me in the dining room?”

I watch the two of them disappear from view and my mind flashes through all of the variables again from Thomas’s perspective. I think about what’s at stake for him: The tabloids would pounce on a story about a handsome therapist and his affair with a wealthy, damaged young woman who committed suicide. He’d probably lose his license, and the Voss family might sue him.

I know quite a bit about Thomas, too. I think back to our encounters, from the museum to the bars to my apartment to the Conservatory Gardens. And the final one, in his office.

With a sudden, swift certainty, I know how he is going to answer.

Dr. Shields comes back into the room less than a minute later, alone. I can’t read what might have just transpired from her expression; it’s as if she is wearing a mask.

She sits down on the end of the love seat closest to my chair. She reaches out and lightly touches my bare leg where there’s a gap between my boots and the hem of my dress. I force myself to remain still, even though I want to recoil.

“Jessica, do you have anything to confess about the true nature of your relationship with my husband?”

I look directly at her. “You’re right. I wasn’t completely honest before. We slept together.” I was worried my voice would waver, but it doesn’t; it sounds assured. “It happened before I knew he was your husband.”

Something changes in her eyes. The light blue of her irises appears to darken. She remains perfectly still for a moment. Then she nods crisply, as it this has confirmed something she already knows. She rises and smooths her dress before heading back toward the dining room.

“Thomas, can you join us?” she calls.

He walks into the room slowly.

“Will you please share with Jessica what you just told me?” she prompts him.

I clasp my hands firmly on my lap and try to smile, but my jaw is clenched too tightly. I can still feel the icy touch of her fingers on my leg.

Thomas drags his eyes to mine. In them I see pure defeat.

“I told her nothing happened between us,” Thomas says dully.

He lied.

I guessed correctly.

He didn’t do it to protect himself, he did it to protect me. He is giving up the opportunity to obtain the visitor’s log.

Dr. Shields is obsessed with morality, with telling the truth. But Thomas understands the nuances of ethical choices; he lied because he thought it would save me, even if it meant sacrificing himself. For all his failings, there is a core of goodness in him. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why she loves him so desperately.

I can feel Dr. Shields’s anger; it’s like a swelling, red force in the room, pressing in on me, stealing away my breath.

The silence hangs heavily for a moment, then Dr. Shields says, “Jessica, can you repeat what you told me?”

I swallow hard. “I said we slept together.”

Thomas cringes.

“Now, one of you is clearly lying,” Dr. Shields says. She folds her arms across her chest. “And it seems pretty obvious it’s you, Thomas, since Jessica has nothing to gain from a false confession.”

I nod, because she’s right.

What she does next is going to reveal if the risk I took paid off.

Dr. Shields walks over to the piano and pats the laptop. “Jessica, I’ll be happy to give you the recording. All you need to do is return what you took from me first.” Her gaze flits to Thomas and I know exactly what she means. She isn’t talking about a necklace.

She’s re-creating what happened with Gene French in her own warped way; she’s using my secrets to inflict maximum pain.

“I can’t,” I say. “I never took any of your jewelry and you know that.”

“Jessica, I’m disappointed in you,” she says.

Thomas takes a step deeper into the room. Closer to me.

“Lydia, let the poor girl go. She told you the truth; I was the one who lied. Now this is between the two of us.”

Dr. Shields shakes her head sorrowfully. “That necklace is irreplaceable.”

“Lydia, I’m sure she didn’t take it,” Thomas says.

This is what I gambled on by telling the truth. I need him to see that despite the fact that I’ve followed her rules, she’s going to find an excuse to destroy me.

She gives me a gentle smile. “I will wait until tomorrow morning to alert the authorities, since it is Christmas.” She pauses. “This will also give you some time to talk to your parents first. After all, once they know the truth about Becky, they’ll understand why you were so desperate for money. Because of your guilt.”