Читать книгу Edge of Midnight - Leslie Tentler, Leslie Tentler - Страница 16

9

“Mia?” Dr. Wilhelm repeated. “Can you hear me? Tell me what’s going on.”

Eric dragged a hand through his hair, watching as her eyelids fluttered and her head rolled weakly from side to side. She’d stopped talking, instead gasping for air. “You need to pull her back—”

The psychiatrist raised his hand in a silencing gesture. “Listen to me, Mia. Whatever’s happening right now, I want you to distance yourself from it. Go back to the empty theater we’ve created and focus on the white, blank screen. Can you do that?”

He made the request twice before she seemed to obey, her breathing eventually slowing and her body releasing its tension. “You’re safe here, all right? We’re going to rest in the theater for a little while. Let the blank screen fill your mind. Don’t think of anything else.”

He got up and went over to his desk. Eric followed him over.

“Is she okay?” he asked in a low voice. His eyes fell on the blood pressure kit Dr. Wilhelm extracted from his credenza.

“I’m going to monitor her BP as a precaution. But the therapy is working, Agent Macfarlane. You were aware the memories were going to cause some discomfort.”

Eric knew he needed to relax and let the doctor do his job. He just hadn’t expected his protective instincts to kick in quite so hard. Eric looked again at Mia. She lay on the couch—no longer moving, her eyes closed. Her lips were slightly parted and her sleek, dark hair spilled across the striped cushion underneath her head.

“You’re going to feel a slight pressure on your upper arm,” Dr. Wilhelm advised in a soothing tone as he returned to the chair beside the couch. Gently, he slipped the cuff onto Mia’s slender biceps. “It’s nothing to worry about.”