Page 70 of Dangerous Deviance

“I think he ran the camp,” I said quickly, trying to think back and say it before the voice stopped me. “Anyway, he made me believe that if I did whatever he said, he would tell me where my sister was.”

Don’t tell her, Ellie.

“And did he tell you where your sister was?” she asked.

“He made me—” but I couldn’t bear to say it. “He showed me—” I stopped, then, because what was it, really? “He showed me a video of her body decomposing.”

I will kill you myself, Ellie!

“A video?”

“Yes,” I snapped. Her tone was as if she didn’t believe me. But that’s what it was—it had to be. “A video,” I repeated.

I grit my teeth together, feeling the pressure all the way down my neck. The metallic taste of blood traced my tongue.

“Do you want to hurt the Adlers?” she asked.

It was a yes or no question, but the answer wasn’t that simple. Did I want to hurt the people who murdered my sister? Yes. I wanted to kill them. To force them to pay for taking an innocent life away from this world when she deserved so much more. When I deserved to see her grow up.

But I knew, deep down, that the Adlers hadn’t hurt her. And yet it was hard to accept the reality, the one that had always been there, lurking beneath the surface.

It was a video. Just a video. A nightmare. A vision.

Julie was out there, somewhere. She had to be.

“Ellie?” Dr. Mercia asked.

“No,” I said. “Idon’t want to hurt them.”

But the voice did.

“But you hear voices, telling you to hurt them?”

It was just one voice, but that one voice was enough. I closed my eyes again, then nodded.

“All right,” Dr. Mercia said. She waited until I opened my eyes. Her hands were folded in her lap, her eyes beaming into me. “You’re having trouble breaking away from your experiences with the Skyline Shift. Does that sound correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you want to think for yourself, but you’re having a hard time being independent, especially in a situation where you were held hostage. Does that sound accurate?”

So shedidknow the exact situation. That didn’t make it any more comforting.

“Yes,” I said.

“I’ll be honest with you, Ellie. What we’re dealing with isn’t simple. But I can do my best to help you.” She leaned forward. “But you have towantto break free. This isn’t about me helping you, but about you wanting to help yourself.”

Anything to get Dr. Bates’s voice out of my head. “Fine.”

“All right,” she smiled. “Let’s do the quick version.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So when you get these violent impulses, you need to delay your decision-making. Give it as long as you can. Especially the big decisions, like whether or not to harm someone. And after a cup of coffee, a hot shower, whatever it might be, youstillwant to murder this person, then yes,” she laughed quietly, “It’s probably your actual desire. But don’t kill someone on an impulse.”

“What kind of doctor are you?” I asked. “Condoning murder?”

She shrugged, the smile fading for a moment, then returning.

“I don’t practice anymore, but I am your doctor right now,” she said. “Call me a fringe doctor. I deal with unique psychiatric cases.”

None of it mattered anyway. I just needed the voice to stop. And I needed her help.