Brady’s image wavered, then popped, like a TV screen after the power cord is pulled. One flash of white light and he was gone. I thought I heard a knock at the door but couldn’t move, just stared at the spot where Brady had been.
The door opened, and Dr. Davidoff stepped in to find me plastered to the wall.
“Chloe?”
I staggered forward, rubbing my arms.
“Chloe?”
“S-spider,” I said, pointing to the bed. “It r-ran under there.”
Dr. Davidoff struggled against a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll get someone to take care of it, while we’re gone. We’re going to go for a walk. It’s time you got a proper tour and a proper explanation.”
Four
AS I FOLLOWED DR. Davidoff down the hall, I tried to shake off thoughts of whatever had been in my room. I was a necromancer: ghosts were my one and only specialty. So it had to be a ghost, no matter how strongly every instinct in me insisted it wasn’t. All I knew for sure was that I was in no hurry to go back in there.
“Now, Chloe—” Dr. Davidoff stopped, noticing me rubbing the lingering goose bumps on my arms. “Cold? I’ll have them turn up the heat in your room. Your comfort is important to us.”
We started walking again.
“But comfort isn’t just physical, is it?” he continued. “Equally important, perhaps even more, is mental comfort. A sense of security. I know you’re upset and confused, and it didn’t help when we refused to answer your questions. We were eager to start checking those places you listed.”
He hadn’t been gone long enough to visit spots miles away. I knew what he’d really been checking: whether Rae corroborated my story. She would. She didn’t know the real rendezvous point, only that I’d said the guys would meet up with us.
Dr. Davidoff opened a door at the end of the hall. It was a security station, the wall lined with flat-screen monitors. Inside, a young man spun in his chair, like he’d been caught surfing porn sites.