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“You need time from the memories, Megan,” Gerard said. “You need someone to listen. Help. Support.”

“And that would be you, of course.”

“Exactly. Have the nightmares stopped since you arrived here?”

Megan turned away. “Please, I’m not ready for this. I can’t—” She shoved away from the post. There was the sadness again, not only in her eyes, but in every inch of her body.

“Kirstie told me about her blackouts,” Gerard said. “Did she mention to you that she was afraid she was being poisoned?”

Megan’s expression froze, her eyes darkened with shock. “She told you that? Why didn’t she say something to me about it?”

“You refused to take her case.”

“Of course I did. She needs a neurologist.”

Gerard shook his head. “You still think that?”

Megan raised an elegantly arched brow. “What would you say if I told you she warned me recently that I could be in danger?”

Eye of the Storm

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