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I can tell from the way he says my name that he thinks I had another episode. That I’m going to talk about Farida’s ghost, or perhaps another student, or Amani.

I straighten up, moving my hands away. “I saw something just now. In the barn. Nick made me promise not to talk to anyone about it. Said the NDA is enforceable, even here.”

“What was it?” he asks, gazing up at me, brow furrowed.

“Was that a lie, what he said about the NDAs?”

“You don’t have to worry about that right now,” he says calmly, giving my knee a squeeze. “You’re allowed to tell me. Tell me what happened. What did you see?”

I take in a deep breath and fill him in, feeling queasy all over again. I can’t get the image of the pink creature out of my head.

“What…wasthat?” I ask.

His face has remained impassive this whole time. Nothing of what I’ve said has surprised him.

“It sounds like something that belonged to the lab,” he says.

“Something that you may have worked on?”

A dark brow arches up. “I have also signed NDAs, Syd.”

I give him a dirty look. “Oh. I see. A little hard to trust you when you’re not even allowed to be honest with me.”

“That’s what trust is,” he says simply. “It’s faith.”

“Well, pardon me if I’m not feeling faithful at the moment. Everywhere I look here there’s one steaming pile of lies after another.”

“Lies in order to protect the foundation,” Kincaid says, straightening up. He walks around his desk and sits down, folding his hands in front of him. Back to being my shrink again. “The work here is…” His eyes roam the room as he searches for the words. “Important.”

“And mysterious.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Very much so. We are doing good things here. I may not agree with Everly, Michael, or even Nick half the time, but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think we were making a difference in the world. We have the ability to change disease. To change life. Prevent death.”

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. “You sound like you’re reading from the company brochure,” I grumble. “Oh, but wait, you’re the one who wrote it.”

He lets out a dry laugh. “I did.”

But I don’t find it funny.

“Should I be worried?” I ask.

“About what?”

I shrug, sighing as I drum my nails along the edge of the armrest. “The other day you said I should fear you. Then you ask me to trust you. You ate me out on this very desk, then you do your hardest to avoid me. I can’t figure you out. I don’t know if you’re on my side. I don’t know what sides there are.”

“I’ll never not admire how bold your choice of words are,” he says, smiling slightly.

I look at him askew. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to what I just said?”

He stares at me for a long moment, frowning slightly. “I have much I would like to say, Syd. But much that I can’t.”

“Ugh, fuck this,” I mutter, getting out of my chair. “Fuck you, Mr. Can’t Tell Me Shit.”

He’s quick. He’s around the desk and pushing me back against it, his hand at my throat. “Every single thing I do is in your best interest,” he says, his voice tense, rough with warning. His eyes blaze like a thunderstorm. “You either trust me or you don’t.”

I swallow against his palm. “Hard to trust you when you’re choking me, doctor.”

His nostrils flare and his hand drops away. He clenches his teeth and looks away, though I’m still bracketed against the desk, the edge digging into my ass. My heart beats wildly against my ribs, wanting to provoke him more, push him over the edge so he can choke me, pull my hair, have his way with me again.