My face must have been a study in horror. I’m sure my alarm glowed like a grand opening spotlight on a moonless night. I finally gathered my thoughts enough to speak. “You think I’m a what?” I was even able to make a whispery laughing sound. “I know.” He didn’t try to argue with me. Just went on talking as if making the statement made it true. “I need you to be with me when I go to the hospital to talk to him. I think I can cure him, but I want him to know that if I can’t, he can live a normal life. He’ll just have to learn to stay in control. The way you have.” When my heart finally started beating again, it thudded against my chest wall so hard, it was painful. My knees grew weak as I realized what this meant. I pulled my hand away from his and crawled onto a nearby stool. “Would you get Bella? Please?” Another pause. A stare. Then he went in search of Bella. Frantic, I tried to make my brain work. What could I do to change his mind? To make him think—no, force him to think—he was wrong?
