Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
I whispered, “I gave her the phone to help, but I think I’m making shit worse.”
His eyes shot to mine. For a second, I thought he’d rat me out, but then he swooped from his chair and marched to a cabinet full of drawers.
Opening a few, he rummaged inside. Grabbing some boxes and bottles, he returned to his chair, then dumped the supplies on the table before me.
I scowled. “What’s all this?”
“Tricks of the trade so she’ll never know it’s you.” Crossing his arms, he shrugged. “I agree that she can never know. Not with her associating you with what happened. You’re her trigger, Zan. And if she ever suspects she’s sharing her darkest secrets with you, you’re right, you could make shit a lot worse.”
I groaned and raked my fingers through my hair. “Then I’ll stop. Right now.”
Almost as if she’d felt my decision on whatever strings linked us, my phone chirped in my pocket. The same chirp I’d assigned to her.
I stiffened.
Colin raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing that’s her by the way you’ve frozen.” Arching his chin at me, he ordered, “Read it. What does it say?”
With jittery fingers, I shifted on the chair and fished my phone from my pocket. Swiping on the screen, I pursed my lips as her text appeared.
Lori: I don’t know what it says about me, but…I’m not mad at you for appearing in my garden. I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but…I actually slept better than I have in a while, all because you were the last man I saw before going to sleep instead of the memories of what happened.
Groaning, I couldn’t make eye contact with Colin as I read it aloud. By the time I repeated it to him, another chimed into my inbox.
Lori: I’m sick of feeling like this. This depression isn’t me, and I refuse to let him take away my happiness. I haven’t been outside in weeks because I’m afraid. I can’t relax inside because I’m afraid. I need to start living again. If you’re still offering to watch over me, I want to tell you everything. But in order to do that, I need your word that you won’t judge me or pity me. No matter how honest I get.
Colin sucked in a breath as I relayed the second part of her message. I felt like I betrayed her all over again for sharing something so personal.
My shoulders slouched as exhaustion cloaked me.
Neither of us spoke.
Nodding once, accepting what he’d tell me—to refuse her request and cut all ties—I pressed my thumbs against the screen to tell her I couldn’t do this anymore.
“Wait.” He held up his hand and shook his head. “You can’t.”
I scowled. “Can’t what?”
“Turn your back on her the moment she’s agreed to accept your help.”
“Are you forgetting the shitstorm this could cause?”
“I’m aware.”
“If she finds out it’s me—”
“We’ll make sure she doesn’t.” Tossing me a box, he went cold as if preparing me to go into battle. “Black hair dye, a fake eyebrow piercing, and prescription-coloured contacts.”
“Wait, what?” I wrinkled my nose. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I have plenty of cosmetics and stage-wear prosthetics. You’re forgetting that’s how I got into this field in the first place. Not only do I provide my patients with new mobility but also a new look if need be. Sometimes a new hair colour or eye colour is just the armour someone needs to wear while they adapt to their new normal. The different appearance tricks the brain into accepting the change far quicker than remembering who they used to be.”
Standing, he came over to me and perched on the desk. “The dye lasts a single wash—it’ll rinse out easily for your shifts at the hospital. I’m pretty sure I remember your eye prescription last time I broke your glasses by accident and you made me buy you a new pair, but if I got it wrong, help yourself. I have plenty more. I figure dark brown will hide your bright green. It would help if you see her with some stubble on your face and not clean-shaven, and you should probably walk differently. Wear clothes she’d never see you wear as Zander and—”
“Whoa, whoa, hold on.” Swooping to my feet, I glowered at the box of hair dye. “You can’t be serious? You’re saying I shouldn’t just keep messaging her but actually see her in person? Have you lost your damn mind? She’ll see right through me!”
He smirked and crossed his arms. “Have you ever heard of the Clark Kent effect?”
I frowned. “What the hell is that?”
“The scientific description is: a disruption of facial recognition via the use of a disguise such as makeup, a beard, and/or glasses. Tweaking these markers is enough to hinder being recognised. It gives the person changing their appearance the ability to hide in plain sight.”