Page 22 of The Restoration Program

Finally, with a swipe of her hand across the screen, they were released to move on.

“Have a nice session,” the receptionist said. “It’s always great to see new faces.”

Well, you’re in luck, Nicole thought, smiling tightly.My face is literally new. Normally, she would have said a quip like that without a second thought. Now, she could only bring herself to glance at the receptionist and nod wordlessly.

“Thank you,” Ryan said, whisking her off.

The hallway was filled with doors and a few too many fake potted plants, perhaps to make the sleek and sterile interior of the building appear less intimidating. People strode in and out of rooms with purpose. Thankfully, Nicole didn’t have to brave any interactions with them beyond the friendly smiles that were sent in her and Ryan’s direction. Helpful signs pointed them toward the support room group.

Voices floated from beyond the set of double doors at the very end of the hall. Nicole braced herself, struck by a wave of discomfort at not having control of where she was going or how soon she’d get there. As it turned out, there was no need to ask Ryan for a moment to gather herself.

His strides slowed several yards from the room. There was a sudden tremble in the carrying tray. Nicole wobbled for balance and looked up in alarm.

“Ry?”

His face was drained of color, a tense clench in his jaw as his eyes darted up and down the length of the hallway. She said his name again, but he didn’t seem to hear her. She scooted carefully to the side to touch his finger. His hand twitched, gripping the edge of the tray tighter.

Blinking hard, he looked down at her and forced a smile. “It’s nothing.”

“Sure,” she scoffed, stroking his wrist. “Tell me what’s up.”

He hesitated and glanced around again. “It’s just… This hallway looks almost exactly like the ones upstairs. I must have walked through them a million times when I was waiting for the procedure to be finished, and then waiting to finally see you…” He trailed off and shook his head.

Her head spun with the image of him pacing for hours on end. For her, it had felt like a blink of time between passing out from the wreck and waking up in her new body. This place held its own special horrors for him.

“I’m here,” she said. She flinched as some of the voices in the last room raised in laughter. Then she offered a small smile to Ryan. “Maybe that’ll be our first order of business once we get in there. Convincing them we should meet somewhere less traumatic. A fancy French restaurant?”

He chuckled, his expression becoming more grounded. “I’m voting for a rooftop bar.”

“Oh, I like your thinking.” She stroked and patted the side of his hand one last time before scooting back to the center of the tray. “You ready for this?”

“As long as I have you.”

The door slid open automatically as Ryan approached.

“Holy shit,” Nicole muttered.

She had imagined what the room might be like a dozen times, but nothing could have prepared her for seeing it herself. This wasn’t a room that was haphazardly repurposed for support group meetings. The space wasdesignedfor them.

Her eyes immediately honed in on the other NüPrints in the room. She counted six. Six others, exactly like her.

Several stood chatting with their larger partners atop the sprawling table that appeared to be the centerpiece of the room. The table was like a swirl of errant paint carved out of polished wood. Nicole would have assumed the furniture was an art installation if it hadn’t been in use. It was surrounded by a dozen chairs and the same number of matching NüPrint chairs atop it.

A waist-high bridge continued the painterly shape of the table, connecting seamlessly to a slightly higher platform on the other side of the room, where refreshments were set up for both parties. The care to ensure everything was as identical as possible was nothing short of painstaking.

Her gaze remained fixed on the platform, where several of the other NüPrints leaned against the railing that separated them from the perilous five-foot drop. If she wanted, she could stand at the rail and almost see eye-to-eye with Ryan again. Walk by his side again.

As Ryan stood there in similar awe, some of the chatter died down when several eyes in the room turned to them. Nicole bristled like an intruder in their midst. The awkward quiet didn’t last longer than a few moments before a NüPrint man in khakis and a smart blazer broke away from the others with a warm smile. He made his way to the bridge, where he beckoned Ryan to approach.

“Aren’t you two a sight?” the man said. “I’m the support group coordinator. Please, come in. Don’t be shy.”

“You’reDr. Burman?” Ryan asked.

“I think so,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m Ryan Northe. Thanks for answering all my emails.”

Dr. Burman shrugged humbly. “That’s what I’m here for. It’s nice to meet you two in person at last. I’ve been following your case closely.”