"Just sign at the bottom, please." Marilyn obeyed. "Monty was everything to me." Natassia reached for her hand and patted it gently. The caring part of her felt for the woman, but the PSI part wanted only the truth. She closed her eyes briefly when Marilyn turned her face away. She could feel the woman's energy. It radiated with a low hum. Marilyn was exhausted, unfocused, confused. Within seconds, Natassia was inside. She was Marilyn. "We have to talk, Monty." A mirror reflected Marilyn Winkler's angry face. Her husband's eyes burned with anger. "Can't you see I'm busy?" A hand waved across his empty desk. "What are you busy with?" Tears welled in her eyes and her throat burned. "Or maybe I should ask…who are you busy with?" He must be seeing someone again. She knew it. The phone rang, but Monty ignored it. It rang a second time and she was about to tell him to pick up the damned thing, but the ringing stopped. "For God's sake, tell me who she is," she begged. "Not this again. Marilyn, I'm waiting for a call." She turned away just as the phone rang.
